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Tetra- Chordon : 



POT POURRI 



OF 



RHYTHMS AND PROSE. 

/ 



By WILLIAM FURNISS- 



And what is friendship, but a name ? 

A charm that liilla to sleep ; 
A shade, that follows wealth or fame, 

But loaves the wretch to weep !" 






PUBLISHED LV THE AMERICAN NEWS CO. 

No. 123 Nassau SrRi:i:i-. 

1874. 






Jo My JFriends 

OF 
j^EW JORK 

Jhis yoLUME IS yVIosT JIespectfully 
J)edicated. 



PREFACE. 



Indignation makes verses, and sometimes poets grow 
mad in writing poetry : and again " every thing is lovely, 
and the goose hangs high." The muse becomes at times 
ver}' sick, and in soft affectation heaves a deep distress. 
Long-Fellows have been known to make short metres. 
We have heard of several scriblers who have died in the 
garret ; while others, like Ginks's Baby, have been drown- 
ed in a curdled stream of sour rhymes, We hope for 
better luck in the future of this Book of Pot Pourri, 
which is a poem of a versical quadrature nature ; and that 
the critics may desist from their cruel censure and forbear 
the heavy blows of their fasces because of the author's 
attempt to be witty, which they have packed up in the 
four quarts of new wine in old bottles. 

Ite capWe. " Go it, ye cripples, and festina lente." 
We cannot omit the expression of our sincere thanks 
for the aid which has been kindly furnished by two friends 
in preparing this work for the press. 



CONTENTS. 



" Mon Repos," a Legend of the Past 9 

Lecture on Springs and Fountains 57 

Tanning 75 

The Creation 81 

The Golden Calf ; or the Almighty Dollar 93 

Report to the Vanderburg Mining Company 117 

Charter of the Vanderburg Mining Company 1 26 

A Refrain 129 

On seeing a Bouquet of Flowers 132 

Colonel O'Brian 133 

Summer Days at Stowe 138 

The Tomb of the Martyrs at Wallabout 1 39 

A Ramble in July 142 



-MON REPOSr 



§. 'St^txxa of i\it IJust 



!AIR BLOOMINGDALE, the loveliest village in the vallej 

^'■Su^^ That runs from Rosendale up unto Manhattanville, 
'vA^^ Winding a length of beautiful indenture in its alley, 

Including the bold fortress of the old powder magazine on Fort Hill, 

Which still remains fresh in the park, in memory of the war of eigh- 
teen twelve, 

And ever will be kept sacred on Evacuation Days, at least by some 
few 

Bold old veterans of the noble Guard, though by others laid upon the 
shelf, 

For their descendants will ever bear them in mind, and ring the 
curfew 

Bell over their graves, for Patriots never die, and the grass will ever 
grow green. 

The fame of Washington, the saviour of our country, will be pre- 
served, 

And the " McGowan's Pass*' be visited, and be very well kept up, 
clean. 

By all who still respect the ancients, for mummies have been well con 
served. 



lo ''MON REPOS:' 

A wooden crest of mound crowns the upland l)luff, above Striker's Bay, 
Where the noble Hudson, decked with the white canvas sails of 

schooners, is oft seen 
From my bay windows, while my favorite hounds are at their play, 
And the beds of flowers, grouped in banks of red, within a marginal 

of green. 
Lying underneath the thorn, locust trees stand now deprived of leaves, 
For the clear cold of Autumn, with November and blowing wind, 
Have keenly stripped the chestnut trees, and cast their nuts out of 

their coaty rind, 
Howling with the tempestuous roar of rushing force, to much remind 
Of the distant throbbings of the ocean, "ns it swells along the naked 

coast. 
With impulse breaking in white capped spray against the bolder rocks 

behind. 
And shocks the breathless air with empty vapory frost-like ghost, 
And flies away like phantom shades, that mock the bubbles breaking. 
Like ravings of the deep despair which beats out on the seas, 
And heaves with throbs of boisterous shrieks, partaking 
Of those wails, and murmurs that move the heart in fantasies 
That strike upon the soul with echoes from the forest notes. 
In the deep bosom of the mountain's hidden lakes, 
When light accords with music through the gorges floats. 
To burst, to beat in sounds of rapture, of which the realms partake. 
Thus lands and seas in one communion join to prove 
That the God of Nature over all is the master at the helm, 
And guides all creatures from His hands by love ; 
That in all his purposes there will be forever room 
To make provision for the human race and beasts, 
If they submit in sweet submission to that heavenly boon 
Which holds as well in great things as in the least. 



'^MON J^EPOS:' II 

Slowly glide the white canvas-spread sails of the sloops on the river ; 
From the banks I sit to watch these graceful moving barks — 
The only poetical things that Miss Martineau chose to sec in her 
Last book on young America, written, perhaps, for the sake of some 

English sharks. 
Silently they flit across the bosom of the majestic water's silver, 
Like snow that falls awhile to be seen, then disappears as soon, 
As any apparition, does that, disappears so suddenly, 
As when a cloud is seen, floating light across the silver moon ; 
And the wild winds hurl their thin vapory forms as they are scudding by 
These flock in numbers o'er the rolling, heaving tide-waters for gain, 
Like the birds that rush southward in the fall, to escape the winter 

weather ; 
So float away towards the ocean-bound, for charter to obtain. 
Or further bound, they wait awhile to shape their course on together. 
And from the timbers in the forest whence they were first cut out 

from their rinds, 
By the axes of the cutters, rent from the hills at the mountain sides, 
These water-logs in wooden frames are but passengers on the winds, 
To bear them to the goals for gain, where profit or loss abides. 
They strike our fancies while we view their handsome forms. 
Like the lithe images of some hidden mysteries in birth, 
Torn, orphan'd stripped shapes of timbers from the mountain's oaken 

arms, 
Which sky, and whispering winds through water bring forth from 

eartli, 
A full quartette of those wonderful works in man's human nature, 
Thr-t do unfold the great resources of the Creator's master mind, 
That sprang at first from out the grand chaotic creature ; 
That leaves the "Unknown Invisil)lc" of the spirit far away behmd, 
And makes us to reflect that all that is revealed to mankind. 



12 ''MON REPOS:' 

Is but the image of the God "our Father, the great I am," His word: 

The Immortal bursting from the spontaneous mortal hind. 

Whose world is an oyster which he must open with his sword. 

The truth was well expressed by old Saint Denis of Spain : 

"That it was easy enough to walk all round that ancient country 

With his head under his arm and come safely back again ;" 

But the only trouble was, the first fact that stood in the way, and 

alwo.ys so contrary, 
Is the same not patent in the present day to him who courts the 

muses, 
Whose aim is only to amuse the people by his funny rhymes, 
May he not have to bite his fmger-nails, when he finds that the public 

i-e fuses. 
And turn in sadness back when they write him down as " behind the 

times." 
But to wake up in sentiment : for a better subject let us now begin with 
A verse from ancient, worthy Keble, one of Old England's saints, 
And if one cannot succeed in making some folks grin, 
Then all other lack of due success unto that end will be a want of 

paints, 

" Old friends, old scenes will lovlier be, 
As more of heaven in each we see ; 
Some softening gleam of love and prayer. 
Shall dawn on every cross and care." 
Across the river on the opposite banks the Palisades in walls. 
Throw up their bold and stony sides in gneiss or granite stone. 
While villages adorn the crowning heights with waterfalls 
That rush in madness headlong, wild in musical tones. 
There Tilly Tudhwi and her well wooded banks on one side 
Look over to the long lines of meadows near the Pleasant Valley J 
And not far off that the lofty building of the Germans hide. 



riie spot called GiiUcul)crg, from good lager when drank ou occa 

sional rally. 
Far off on distant heights stands historic old Fort Lee, 
Recalling movements of George Washington and of memory's told ; 
He was a noble patriot' and the Feather of his Country, 
While later writers state his boyish son was rather sold, 
For neither the story of the hatchet nor of the original peachy cree 
Holds any truth to carry its own weight m virgin gold ; 
And this, like the " blarney stozie" of the dear old Pilgrim's rock, 
Or Pocahontas, John Smith's Indian gal, was a very bold 
Draft on the imagination for the real facts to shock. 
The Palisades in graceful lines of basaltic cliffs extends 
Upward so far as The Tappan-zee, that noble bay-like sheet of water 
That reaches Ix^yond the ridge of Piermont, up to Nyack's bend. 
Which checks our limit at the rocky hook as the halter. 
Thence swings in revolutions of the rounding sweeping tide 
That throws the channels back down to the lowest bluff. 
Tust at that point of the Elysian Fields, near Hoboken's pride 
P'or all the Sunday pastimes, sports, for peoples' frolics ; 
Nor yet forget the celebrated Stevens iron-clad steam battery. 
That heavy plated monster, armed with mailed prow s and barbs of 

steel. 
So in preparation that in times of peace to sharpen up our armory. 
To be ready when from all our enemies of foreign parts we an attack 

should feel 
That the bold eagle of the American standard on the asciitcheon^ 
With its stars and stripes was not a " bird of brag and boast," 
But when it gets its feathers up, and fixed ammunition, 
It was not afraid of Frenchmen or any British coast. 
Thus much for buncombe and the inland scenery. 
That lies behind the hills of Jersey flats and the lines of fields 



14 



MON REPOS: 



That runs among the wild meadows and salt marshes up to Haver. 

straw. 
Now we will come back to scenes of graver note and worth in yields, 
To speak of still life lying near to the centre of our own line, 
That runs along the serpentine boulevard, this overturning of the 

earth's old jaws, 
That sprang from out the canny brains of men's red tape and twine, 
Which, from meandering all along Broadway, streatches up to Harlemj, 
And if the river had not intervened would not have stopped at them, 
There's no knowing where, but for the sudden death of Mr. Carman, 
For these engineers of modern times beat the Indian chiefs at game 

of ball ; 
They fight to scalp a man because the big contractors cheat them, 
And send their enemies without any scalps on head to Arabia the 

blessed. 
But for these nobby kings of Satan or Satelites of Saturn, but some- 
thing of a dead beat, 
For old Nick does lead them, and the sovereign of the daily presses. 
The nearer the church is very apt to prove in them to be nearer the 

devil. 
Says a proverb ; so we now turn to the churches that stand. 



i Cimotljg's (3EIjurc|. 



Between that church called Saint Timothy, the first to fight evil. 
That this Avas first started in the lowest construction, like a caboor 

on the land, 
And was preached in a sort of log-cabin by texts from one Tracy, 
A very nice fellow, who had a young Ambrose to help him. 
With some clever old deacons, like Cushman and Striker the racy, 
fo intone with the people from prayer-book or join in the hymn. 



'^MOX J^EPOS:' 15 

Nolwillislanding llioir cflorts, tliis yoimj^ priest did die on one day 
l-'roin coiisuniiiiioii, we leani from his parishioners and relatives 

dear ; 
But we fear, if tlie truth must be told, he was love-sick, they say, 
For we much fear that most divinity students think too much of the 

fair ; 
What from views of themselves in the glass and carefully partmg their 

hair. 
They have always one eye for the ladies and another for prayer. 
We have known a few who were dandies and rather given to dress, 
And could tell some tales out of school of their pranks in distress. 
Dut it is charity to cover these neophytes with a cloak of sweet love, 
For I am sure the good angel above will wipe out such a sin with 

a blot ; 
For which read in St. Paul, that all virtues are served up to prove 
That old clothes and burned bodies of self, he cared not a jot, 
Then turn over and mend, ye white-chokered priests, with your bows, 
In low genuflections and loud hell-sounding frightful alarms, 
And pound not your pulpits with anathema blows. 
For all such predications, like the thunder, works surely no harm, 
It is the lightning that strikes, which the wise man shuns ; 
It is the silent still spirit of Faith, Prayer, and Trust, 
That moves like the whispering of the sweet smiles of the sun ; 
Like the dews of the morning that form jewels from dust, 
And sparkle like diamonds with prismatic hues of colors, 
Like our alms, which are the wings to lift up our prayers 
To Heaven, who hears them in the blue silent hours, 
For to relieve our burthens and drive away all our fears. 



I6 "MON KEPOS: 



'aint Harg's Cfjurdj. 



Tins sweei thought we stole on a bright Sunday morning. 

The time, it was Christmas, when the girls they were dres&ing 

The fount at St. Maiy's, with gay flowers adorning 

The ahar of the church, and so tenderly cai-essing * 

The noble old pastor, who has held up this church. 

And stood manfully up to proclaim our salvation 

From sin and destuiction, without any temble lurch. 

In the vessel of sacrifice and of blood shed for the nation. 

And through Winter and Summer he always was found, 

Reading and praying and preaching from the Gospel, 

The good tidings of blessing for the sinners all round — 

For he cared for the poor and the rich man as well. 

This doctor of souls was quite learned in geology. 

For he published a book on "the recentness of ci-eation ;" 

But the writing of which did not disturb his theology. 

For it proved that old Adam was the sole germ-sprout of the race ; 

And all the rest of mankind, wherever a man has been found, 

Was only a mixture of colors, black, red and white, if you please. 

And development, like mushrooms or truffles, sprang out from the 

ground. 
Was the mere offshoot of nature that was fanned by the breeze. 
What with Huxley's and Darwin^s, and other wise savants, 
Who make men from monkies by the notion that looks at their tails. 
For such we sent them to look at the wiser sand-black ants. 
Or the oysters and sea nautilus, whose wings are their sails ; 
Such nincompoops will never set the North River on fire. 
Nor by "spontaneous combustion ^* draw off the white river Nile, 



''MON REPOSE' 17 

VVlmtcver progress scicucc gains by fisticuffs or satire 

Will surely in the end from the wise provoke their smile, 

A middle theme now sends to change the course of our rhymes. 



For shelter and retreat out the two former shrines or temples of fame, 

Midway between Saint Timothy and Saint Mary's sacred limes, 

Lies boldly, seeking notice from its fame has Saint Michael's name. 

Whose "Legend of the Dragon " told about its fierce onslaught, 

And victory claim'd from fighting with his majesty old Nick. 

He fairly whipped the monster whom he stoutly fought. 

And from the battle-field discharged him with a kick. 

Now good Saint Michael's sanctuary has settled down in peace. 

The present pastor of this shepherd's fold is shrewd and bold. 

The founder was since a "Richmond left the field and gathered 

fleece " 
From off the backs of sheep in former times, we are told ; 
Until one bright night the steeple caught on fire, 

And to the surprise of all the people, as they stood aghast and looked, 
That there was scarcely a fragment left behind of the old spire. 
That loss of the wooden framework arose from rusty stovepipe's heat. 
Was but a gain, for he who followed next was born to preach. 
When a bran new building from the ashes quickly rose in form sc 

neat 
That from the gothic shrine he could so much better teach 
His gathered people in the congregation which he had to meet 
The churchyard was not burned nor the soules that lie beneath. 
In monumental tombs or graves covered with the green swards. 



x8 '^ MON REPOSr 

For these old parishioners had simply died from want of breath, 

And in the resurrection hour will all have their due rewards ; 

We will sing the song then of the bell that tolled so well, 

For the hours of service as well as prayers within the tower, 

For " the church bells beyond the stars heard, the souls blood ; 

" The land of spices ; something understood, 

Sounding with merry peals and of gladness for the bride so well. 

As for the sad hour of the funerals passing power. 

This edifice although built of w^ood was sprung with groined arches 

In style ecclesiastic and lectum of the proper antique style, 

With windows opened towards the several aisles as stiff as starch. 

Lighted with the chandeliers that are notched where the gas displaces 

oil. 
So that the order is quite quaint, to suit the rubric of the prayer-book, 
With bas-relief and other rare devices that please the people, 
Who worship at their ease, although they should not look 
Up to the Dutch shaped ram-like expounder, that tops the steeple, 
The only exception to the general rule as to its architectural shape. 
Say nothing of the queer addition, in a sort of student's telescope. 
That looks as if the vestiy had a quarrel about the money how to 

scrape, 
And had to fill the nteaswe by the piece before they broke. 
But what's the difference in these revolutionary times. 
When overturning everything as the new order of the day 
With sects that vary in their divers creeds, and whims, 
And bury faith in superstnicture works of potter's clay, 
Let us turn aside and see the fix they are in against sitt 
And all the tricks that Satan has to play, in secret hide 
Behind the fonns of Pharisaic pride and gilder's foil of tin. 
Surely vanities were not intended for any church's pride. 
When great Isaiah boldly warns " That without money's /nV^, 



''MONKEPOSr 1 9 

Truly the Lord our God did never in^c/u/ such salvation surely 

We were to drink of the waters that were sweet and nice, 

In order that the poor folks might hear the Gospel purely. 

But prophets preach, the pulpits loud proclaim 

That all the Scriptures are the birth-right of the poor, 

So when the pews are paid for, this upsets their teaching, 

For which Jesus Christ our Saviour opened the door. 

That all the sly doctors who climb over the fence were peaching ; 

He called them robbers who did fleece the sheep 

And sold the wool from oft' their backs to sell 

The skins as merchants do who filthy lucre keep. 

Sheltered or sandwiched between two others. Saint Michael stands, 



Sheltering %\[m^. 



To hold the sheltering arms, the product of the good priest. 

Who sacrificed his homestead to make an asylum for those infants, 

Who lacked a cover for this charity exclusive of others, as a spot to rest. 

It was named by a conclave of some clever kind of thinkers 

Who borrowed the thought by suggestion from George Law's shelter 

cars 
On the Eighth Avenue horse railroad, there were shelters sort of 

blinkers 
To shield the passengers who were waiting and to warni their paws 
In Winter time, when the snows fall and the winds were blinding 
Their eyes, are likely to freeze their feet in the wet and cold. 
And when you think of the analogy between cars and arms so finding 
It was a spark of divinity for these wiseacres to strike before it was 

sold, 
And the result was that the charitable building was left and selected 

out 



20 " MON REPOSr 

As a holy house for the innocents, whose mother did not know much 

about their birth 
Or, in other terms, it was a truth, that the parents could not keep them 

about, 
The fact is these infants, when they are orphans, are a bother on the 

earth. 
The truth is sad when we all know how German Mtiller 
Built three goodly mansions all through the aid of prayer. 
And when he began himself he was poor as any moth miller. 
But his heavenly father lieard him tlirough the midnight air, 
And the same was done by Baptist Knapp, a simple man of faith, 
Who dared to stand on evidence in sincere trust and belief. 
And took for text that Jesus was the guarantor of all the words he 

saith. 
And those Christians who follow their Master are sure to find 

relief. 
In these very words, it is written, " Open thy mouth wide, 
And I will burst the gates of heaven to send abundant blessings 
Upon thy stores and thy family that shall rush in like the tide," 
And the graces that will follow will be ever more refreshing, 
For the humble shall be exalted when downfall goes with pride, 
For Jesus is the Master, and heaven and earth are his own. 
And he never will forsake the earnest petitioner on his knees. 
For the Pharisee is a lesson and the Publican was better known. 
And the good Lord is the giver, and bestows on whom he pleases 
A further thought was just brought before the mindful muse, 
That it was not the Poet's only object to astound the world 
With studies of the churches, and book fill the Cloister of the Re- 
cluse, 
And even fatted chickens only live to have their necks twirled. 
But we forgot to mention two other temples on the main 



Catholic and Itlcthodifit 

Road, and both in Bloomingdale, the one run by Father Brennan, 
A Romish priest that came from Port Jervis, not from old Spain. 
A venerable clever man, we know, if not, ask Patrick Brennan. 
His post of duty is at the " Holy Church of Jesus " sure. 
And, faith, I know it is so called, says Jimmy Ryan, his dark. 
The other edifice, that has a Methodist to care, is not far from this 

holy priest's cure, 
Stands on the hill, just back of the public school, near the park. 
St. Luke's, the Methodist Episcopal, it is called by Afarl's, the 

preacher's name, 
And Non-Conformists is the style of all the teachers of this mode 
Of worship, for its all the same since Abram's and David's fame, 
The secret talismanic key for entrance is " Let it be a la mode." 
So long as it is the fashion for the rich to go to church. 
And ritual is all the habit, and the style of motley wear, 
The poor man must be hustled out with a snickering lurch 
And has to do his praying and his preaching in thq. open air, 
To that God the Lord of earth and sky and water also. 
The Fermantal of the Triune Deity is doubtless three. 
There will certainly no sex or sects be ever found in heaven we know, 
For there cannot possibly be one God for you, another for me. 
That would be an awful catastrophe for all mankind. 
And the unkindest cut in any grand division, 
To leave all the gentle sheep in black and all the goats behind, 
Such chaos would upset the Mosaic code and call for a revision. 



^loomingdalc* 



Pass on to things unattempted yet in prose or verse do seem 
To follow like a natural course of sprouts in the garden. 



22 '' MON REPOSr 

To speak now of the old past and the ring of boxwood green, 
Laid out in regular plains not unlike the Plains of Arden, 
In the ancient times when the Roger family resided here in glory, 
So respected for their solid virtues and their Knickerbocker pride. 
When they did drive to church in their four-in-hand, the old story. 
Since that day's now past, but their descendants do not ride. 
Those were times when Bloomingdale was quite like country. 
And " King's Bridge" highway road ran like a crooked snake 
Somewhat serpentine in form like the pond in Lake Glenmary. 
Then the traveler to Spyten Duyvel did not ever need to quake, 
In fear of hidden robbers by the wayside with his cocked pistol. 
For all were rather poor and had such honesty of look 
That no one thought his neighbor was hiding behind an ugly thistle ; 
Or that a Will o' the Wisp of a ghost or a jack o' lantern light in a 

brook. 
To shock the children in this innocent age by a falcon's frightful 

claws ; 
As in these later days of modern ways we are left in Sleepy Hollow. 
From what cause it arose except from some change of laws. 
Like the Draconic code of ancient kings that melt away like tallow. 
Sure these conversions turn in the history of some peoples' lives. 
Are just as variable as the sun-flowers in their change of lines, 
Although turning always with the sunshine it still survives, 
Spite of head that bends all round as the orb of day declines. 
These, like our watches, for every one claims that his own self 
Particular time-piece keeps the time and is the very best, 
And for the passing hour, boasts when he speaks for no one else, 
For he deems that his alone is right, and wrong are all the rest. 
For a man when convinced against his own stubborn will. 
Will always remain of his own opinion still. 



" MON REPOSr 23 

For it will be hard to kick against the thorny pricks, 

As it ever was for a poor jackass to kick over a pile of bricks. 



Wi\t |3oircr of; |3i;ai}er. 



The churches banquet angels age, 

God's breath in man returning to his birth, 

The soul in paraphrase, the heart in pilgrimage. 

The Christian's plumet sounding heaven and earth ; 

George Herbert 
That power of prayer was given to Miiller for him to intercede 
With God to grant his wish, and bring a blessing with it. 
It was the voice of God by angels listening to his sigh in need, 
And heard was the word of this simple-minded man, in spirit 
He asked his father for daily food, and it was given indeed, 
And heaven was opened as a door for what he asked, 
For others, not himself alone ; at first he trembled on his knees. 
And bending low laid his earnest supplication ; he was not tasked, 
For our good Father of all the human kind is truly great, 
And grand the store -house where he garners up the food 
That not intended wholly for the sad beggars at the gate 
Of the rich man, nor the hovel of the poor man, however rude. 
He gives because the sinner's heart was faint and broken 
With sufferings, and his tears and grief are as incense sent 
From golden censors waived in viols as penitential tokens, 
That all we have on earth was by heaven only lent 
In trust for us to keep well garnished up -nith care, 
That in return as sacrifice by faithful use denote 
Our gratitude for favors granted through our prayers. 
For " alms are the wings that bear our wishes to float 
Towards heaven, who fosters all our thoughts serene. 



24 " MON REPOSr 

If the donation is a meek oblation and sincere in truth, 

So much the more is the seeker's wants requited if the gift is clean 

And the heart beats in unison with love as in the vows of youth. 

W^t burdens. 

What beauties lie beneath the well-sodded beds in the garden 

walks, 
Dallying amid delightful banks of plants and flowers we view 
The dark circle of the box-hedges that bound the rings in rigid 

stalks. 
Then from the arbor turn at every point around the beds so new, 
As if the hand had made a paradise on this earth below. 
Where all that maiden's care and love of culture could contrive, 
Was done to please the eye or charm the heart in joyous show, 
And fascinate so well as to rivet the soul in this sweet life. 
What gushing violets and bunches of daisies lift up their head 
To fill the air with such odorous perfumed incense from the flowers. 
We smell the fragrant jessamine and orange blossoms as we tread 
And while the time in counting all these beauties by the hours, 
As if they were all jewels in the crown that strew our pathway to the 

grave. 
For I remember the fair Oceana, in thy love that decked these 

arbors, 
Thy bright image still haunts the memory of this hallowed spot, 
Thy voice, tho' silent, beats in the swellings of a hidden pulse. 
And thy presence sits beside me while thou art not forgot. 
It lingers round the tulip-buds and wreaths of glory crowning us 
With touches of a gentle hand that moves our soul, as friend. 
To friend in heart responds, as face to face in water does. 
And we now wait long to fill thy place in the house of sweet repose. 



*'MON KEPOSr 25 

And leaving all the meaner things beliind to seek their real home, 

In the mansion of the blessed, fresh beauties will disclose. 

How all the rainbow colore that are seen in shadows herw. 

Will crown the glories of the endless distant shore. 

And all the fantasies will be changed to substance there. 

That Paradise is not far off to th jse that love the good, 

That all thy fellow-men are angels sent from above, 

That He who is all that is beautiful and true, alone could 

Change all thy sweet songs of melody here to psalms of eternal 

praise, 
As well he might create a new form of graceful creature, 
And out of the mouldy dust another image of Jehovah raise. 
For we will live forever and partake of a glorified future. 
Wherever the flowers were planted the alleys were overgrown 
By noble forest trees, that hung their graceful crowns with foliage, 
So thick as not to shade the lovely green of the borderings sown 
With ranks of everlasting forms of grace and noble age. 
Among these walks the old man, like a nabob of the Indies, 
Strove to while away the time until old age crept on, 
By cherishing the homestead where he was born besides, 
The greenhouse with the oranges and lemon trees to crown. 
The patrimony of his fathers with his genial tastes of one 
Whose pride was to improve and decorate the blooming dawn. 
And foster with great care the treasures which not alone 
Embellished all the landscape from late to early dawn. 
The aged veteran strode along and view'd the groves o'er head. 
The branching limbs of grand primeval stalking forms 
Of oaks and walnuts, locust, beech, and thorn-trees, indeed. 
And every variety of forest charm that man could farm. 
This was a Paradise indeed, with pond and gold fishes. 
Playing within the marble basin's round rim like a bowl, 



26 " MO.^ J^EPOS." 

Such as old Pliny would have chosen among his dishes, 

With peacocks with brilliant eyes and iris shaded tails, 

The bird that Juno loved, that ancient heathen goddess, 

Who by the side of Jupiter, her husband, ever stood, 

And ranked as Queen of Beauty, with her golden tresses ; 

And, altogether, the whole mansions, with the primates good, 

Were an assemblage of such uncommon attraction, 

That if all the objects that could be brought together would 

Form in one joint grand mass a compound of hospitality withoat 

detraction, 
Not to be found on any other point this side of Hudson River, 
For without exception, having travelled far and near, 
The rest of all this planet were not really worth a stiver. 
There was the resting place for the loved and dear. 
Beyond the pleasure ground, standing erect in front of all 
These garden prospects, is the large gold-fish pond. 
It stands under the shadow of the ancient groves of tall 
And noble elm trees, that bear a lofty mien above the entire 

grounds. 
What with the ancient chairs outside, and library of books 
That stood within the cases and the stock of valuable fixtures. 
Including branching deer antlers and other things of a queer looks, 
Such as conk shells of beautiful shape and some virtuoso mixtures, 
The cottage by the river side, where the bold rocks on the shore 
Form the barriers, like a bulwark to stay away the tides 
Which rise and fall about here until they reach the nore 
Of Sandy Hook or Neversink Light, where it hides. 
This very ancient domicil was a feature to be noted, 
From the fact that these landmarks of the islands of Manhattan 
Will sink in a short time from the memory, to be quoted. 
And will be lost to all so much as a man without a hat on. 



•• MO>r RF.posr 27 



a Sistorin 



So we will turn and swing our poem by a twisting of the road, 

And run beyond this ancient bower of love and friend of mine, 

And by a jump of many a stadia reach to where stood 

Another ancient homestoatl of th;i days of " Auld lang Syne," 

That was called in the days ago the ancient Rogers' Place ; 

Not Sir Coverly de Rogers, of the "flitch of bacon fame," 

But the father of the Kerables, another venerable race 

Of men and women, for a rose by any other name smells all the same, 

And if the smell of its fragrance is just as sweet to mind, 

What is the difference between tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee in 

name. 
Here was the residence of grandees, and the Knickerbockers kind — 
A people who were somebody, who had pure blood, to be sure, 
That had bodies ; but of souls, we say nothing more than they were 

kind, 
For the healing of such diseased folks have the doctor for their cure ; 
For of all races, as they follow down the branches of the tree, 
Grow gradually less as they are distant from the stump. 
To get at the measure of their quality its fair average must be, 
Made of their degree in the mixture and be taken in a lump. 
These old chatterboxes of society, with their nut-cracking teeth. 
Are the sloppings over of a too full cup, you will find, 
Forever gossiping about the stock of others in a sly under breath. 
Quite do strain at their knats, but swallov*- their own camels never ; 
The big beam that fills their hollow eyes — from the mote they are 

blind. 
Like the mole that is always burrowing under the earth. 
Which must be ferreted out by digging with a spade from behind ; 
Or like mushrooms that rise up from the fog's early birth 



2 8 ''MON REPOSr 

To sink away when the sun is fully up in the sky. 

These fossils of an ancient period of time quite forget 

That the recentness of creation casts but a throw of the die. 

These people own pedigrees, and are much like poor tenements to lei 

That this custom of antique folks resemble much the old tea-kettle, 

They called the pot black because it had a darker skin. 

Notwithstanding, these prejudices are hard still to settle. 

Like their pride in the difference or distinction, is like a shadow very 

thin. 
Leaving aside all such questions, as mere matters of dispute 
For philosophy as well as of science, is of a very ancient date. 



€)i;iflin cf M\% 



We will follow closer home by a new road to the farm, 

And consider how the title of this history, now to relate : 

A grand Mogul from the Indies came once upon a time, 

For casting all his future horoscope through a teacup of dry leaves. 

Crossing the threshold by a ferry, call it Atlantic or the clime. 

He projected a plantation, like Jason, it turned out golden fleece. 

By digging and good luck his works were blessed by the Lord, 

Who has promised all his servants, if they keep honest and fair, 

That they shall have full return and a glorious, rich reward, 

Provided always that their dealings are on the level and the square. 

Diligent in business, faithful, well he held on to his trust. 

He purchased fields that many hundred rods in acres told ; 

He felt assurance that, in time, to succeed he must ; 

His qualities were strengthened by his ample bags of gold. 

No ancient landmarks, by early fathers set, did he remove ; 

No widow grieved, because her trusts held by him were broken. 

Where she had confidence in his word once given that it was trove ; 



For all his deeds and looks so Icind, did ever so betoken, 

His presence was a grace, and welcomed was every friend. 

Such was tlic man who truly loved to greet his fellow men. 

Strong was his faith in Providence, and faithful ever to the end ; 

The poor man sought his door, the needy was not forsaken. 

" Honor and fame from no cond''ion rise ; 

" ' The gold is but the guinea's stamp,' said Burns ; 

" Act well your part, there all the virtue lies ; 

" The man is a man for all that " he honestly earns. 



SIhe Jai;m» 



Now on this farm there was everything to be found 

In the old mansion of the good Roger family ; 

His homestead was established well and amply bound, 

It was well cultivated and cared for, with every facility ; 

Plows and harro\\'^, pigs, poultry, wagons and coaches. 

Horses and carriages, even cock-loft with tons and plenty of hay, 

Chickens and roosters, with henneries and cockroaches ; 

And watch dogs with their kennels, and barn-yards for their full play , 

Men who worked, and servants of all kinds and sexes ; 

Those SQ.xy particular Irishmen were not even neglected. 

For there were trees on the places of every variety, which vexes 

The man who trims, such as the oak, chestnut, locust, protected 

With thorns ; besides sassafras, maples, walnut, hawthorn and beeches- 

Again, tall willow and the tulip trees, which really please 

All the fast ones who think of red lips, with the blush on the peaches, 

Besides the cherry and white wood, that bends with the breeze, 

Not forgetting the walnuts nor the ominous white birch, 

Quite reminding one of our school days, when as school boys 

We were taken by forcible entry, and taken across kness with a lurch 



30 " MON REPOSr 

We -w ere thrashed by the pedagogue for making such a noise, 

Thus adding a chapter to perform the full condition 

And fill up the catalogue of this nice produce farm 

To completion, also overtask of faithful veneration, 

Should omit some rare particulars and do it much harm. 

It just happens, for my memory must surely be at fault, 

How I forgot not to mention the favorite tree, apple ; 

The Permain and Baldwin greenings and sour sweets. 

The trees must forgive me, for the offence is so capital, 

When we think of the cider, crab-apple flavor, that greets 

And suggests the pure apple-jack, the sheet-lightning of Jersey, 

Whoever has drank that will live to a good grey old age ; 

I know that from evidence given me by one Mr. Hersey 

Who served all his neighbors, for they thought it outrageous ; 

Besides, what would Mistress Adam have thought of any such 

An error on the poet's book, that in the part of Hamlet 

He should have placed on one side this ancient Dutch, 

And left in that memorable play the principal man out ; 

Besides, Father Adam, first parent of all the human race. 

Would have sought out the culprit on this blind occasion 

And sent a token of his curses which might forever efface 

This pure image of this sacred fact and spoil his whole narratioa 

But never mind, the Lady Eve was generous and kind, 

Too much chagrined by Adam's puling creatures. 

Treatment, left on her vocative state, when she ran behind. 

And left old Satan to console them in their fallen feature. 



''MON REPOSr -.J, 

^ilcfi and ^^•'iisns. 

PLAIN TALKS. 

It is a wonder to the town that so near a great city, 

A real country place may be still be seen at Sleepy Hollow, 

Where primeval forest trees and boulder rocks in grand simplicity, 

Afibrd a sheltering roof for the swiftly flying swallow. 

Strange this may seem, yet stand the Woodlawn's groves, 

Historic famous Claremont Halls rise high upon the Cliffs, 

Where rushing floods of tides roars wild, like the rebel droves, 

Its loud bellowing oxen, goaded on to market by drivers rough. 

This surely shows that Bloomingdale, near Gotham city, is 

But a syncope of ancient times and redolent with history. 

That chairs exists since sixty-six with vouchers of all this. 

And other remnants of the pleasant days are not a mysteiy. 

The legendary stories of the sports are still fresh kept by some 

Old antiquarian grandmothers, who will tell you by the hour 

What belles they had been in former days, what beaux gave boquets, 

How well they flirted with their fans, and jilted in their poAver ; 

With many an evening spent at balls and mornings at croquets. 

But we must hurry away from these, our sketches will not last, 

There is some fun to lighten up views from these old sports, 

And we hasten on to gather up the fragments which break cast 

Of some clever jokes and picnics, walks, from these verses and theii 

shots ; 
Of Feather Weber, an old man of eighty, Ave have a note about the 

Abbey, 
Meinherr von Dutchman had a wife, besides he smoked his clay p'pe, 
His property ran down to the river but his stockings wtre sh.abby. 
So in old age he took a woman helpmate of the young stripe ; 



^2 " MON J^EPOSr 

But as always happens, between January and May, he did die one day, 
And all round the house there was an austere burial with hearse, 
For the old man had married late, he said it once in play, 
And as he bargained, so what he obtained, was some twins besides a 

nurse. 
So this ends the first story of Meinherr and his glory. 
The widow she departed, and after some consolation from friends, 
The old Weber mansion was changed to an inn, with a second story. 
But the landlord not keeping Sunday right, was sti-uck by lightning 

and the fire burnt to both ends. 



|lc|lections. 



— '* Mors est omnibus communis," writes a Tatin poet. 

A hearse is but another kind of stage, for all are carried by one to the 

grave. 
So it occurred one day that every air-tight stove in parlors would 

show it. 
How much resemblance to a tomb its looks so dumb and grave. 
Another sweet suggestion arose while sitting all alone. 
One day came to me on a bright fair Christmas morn — 
Whispering, spoke the beauty of an Irish legend that had a silvel 

tone. 
It was that when a child was buried at a funeral in the island green. 
The door of the troubled mourners' mansion was left open to the air, 
It was thought that the angels might pass in and be seen ; 
For these messengers are faithful lights, so gentle and so fair. 
From grave to gay, from lively to severe, M'ith gay return 
To scenes of comic cast, and cheer brings joy to others, 
Tony was a Welchman, Tony was a thief, but quite taciturn, 
Tony came to my house and stole a chunk of beef. 



MON REPOS: 



33 



Now this neighbor was an inn-keeper, his name was Jimmy Welch ; 
He had a wife that plagued his life, and made him take to drink. 
Now when a man drinks, tlie wine goes into the mouth, tlie wit tc 

the shelf. 
Which is true that what one steals with the devil, it goes to tlie 

brink. 
So what money is made by deceit, over the shoulders of ill, 
Goes out under the belly, deny then who can refute it ! 
For a dog that returns to his vomit finds it a hogshead of swill, 
And it takes no prophet of wisdom or sense to dispute it. 
The Welsh are but a specimen of many others in the past, we knew. 
Them warning to deter their fellow-men from taking the first glass ; 
A second taken may only learn how their ale to brew. 
The last placed them on the road to ruin ; that people saw, alas ! 



goulijiiai;! 



What a change has taken place in this region. 

Once the people about here were social and neighbors at hand ; 

There were hundreds of house-holders — aye, a legion. 

And were responsible owners and proprietors of the land. 

There were the Swains, Meyers, Malis, the Peunetts and Whites, 

The Whitlocks, Le Roys, Van Post, and tlie Haydocks, 

The McVickers and Sheffleins, Bryant and Browers at nights, 

And Heywords and Palmers, the large owners of docks. 

By some process of transfer, by the choice of better selection. 

Most took up their luggage and crossed over the river. 

In the wise ways of Providence we are told of election, 

But it is somewhat hard for the rest of us to stay here and shivey. 

That there is no accounting ior tastes in this suffering worLi, 

And we have to submit, for it is very wrong to complain, 



.^4 " MON REPOSr 

For so long as garments are charged and buttons are twirled, 

We have to bear losses as gains and endure well all the pain. 

The blessings will come, one day you will see all this is right. 

The Island of Manhattan carries a long body of two heads. 

The crooked ways of this earthly paradise will surely be made 

straight, 
And the triumph at last will result in a parable of gold threads. 
The latter days of this seeming paradox but of solemn facts, 
"Will show a blessing for all those who will survive the change, 
That the last spot on which the revolution in form reacts 
Will show that between all extremes there is always a middle range. 
And when the evolution of the present process moving 
Will reach the summits and procure a finished end. 
The lot of fortune will be thrown in the lap of patience proving 
That he who holds on and keeps his purse holds on to his last friend, 
Will see this island covered up with blessings for the poor. 
The rich man may rejoice that he has placed his bonds on trust. 
Keeps his wealth for future, he is not so very sure. 
That Providence may before that day put his body in the dust. 
The die is cast and not long to wait has he who serves 
His Master first, which he has a very good chance below, 
For he is loved who loves, and hopes for no return, deserves 
A better fund of treasure from which he can bestow. 



|liiier-f idc iriv^. 



These Boulevards are strange convulsions in the bowels of mothei 

earth 
That swM.g their huge length across the whole of Manhattan Island, 
And hang a chain from Board of Commissioners of the Ring, that gave 

birth 



To the grand idea of its transactions in the heads of sons of Ireland. 
The longitude of its extremities extend in width seventy miles, 
And they are all finished round the circuit of the spanded plan. 
Its width would stretch one hundred and fifty feet by Deacon Giles' 
New measuration, running from the reel* in the stand. 
Not quite content in beginning from out the Seventh Avenue, 
The band of engineers ran up far over the Break-Neck Hill, 
And plunging along by side of Dykeman's, from the last avenue, 
Its snaky folds twisted over by Saint Nicholas past Jumel's 
And coming back again swept past Bennett's and the Havens. 
Having turned quite a somersault not far from the great high bridge, 
And rapidly gerrymandering in a sweeping curve like thread twine. 
It turned its graceful swan-like neck round along its summit's ridge, 
Then ran a course in backward set in coming home near Hailem 

Lane, 
Near to the line of the Six-Mile Trotting Park, just by McGowan's 

Pass. 
From the control that guides its onward way quite near the powder 

magazine. 
Then hides its head awhile somewhere behind the fence in grass 
Thus, with contortions, extravaganzas, and extortions small and 

great, 
Purposed by the first superintendent of this monster game, one Bill 

Tweed, 
Proved but a new version of the Utopia, once by Sir Philip Sydney 

seen, 
And through the cloud rising out of some verv' fragrant weed, 
There rose a proscription by that master Comptroller, Mr. Green. 
So that with taxes, assessments large, with improvements added, 
The City of Manhattan wdl increase in splendor and in magnificent 

size, 



36 



MON REPOS: 



And simple people will have only to hold their heads up while gaged, 
For the glamor of a dream about the grand future had covered up 

their eyes 
Including the Boulevards, well so-named from the French work, 
From the fact that they have overturned every right of the owners to 

stop them, 
We make mention of another construction called the Moi-ning-Side 

Park, 
Because the first sunrise is first seen from the side of the hill-top, 

when 
The bright blush of its rosy light-beams peep over its walk, 
This crowns the last ridges of the rocky height that look'd down on 

the valley, 
And noteablc in the time of the last war from the veterans who rose 
Up in arms, with fierce valor, and bustled in hot haste to rally 
And beat off all approach of the red coats by hard blows, 
And we will finish off all this line of summary processes. 
By the last undertaking of the crafty thieving of this cabal's chief, 
In the route called by their fancy folks of the trotters and the press ; 
Fast horsemen andjockies or turfmen and grand califf. 
" The River-Side Drive" which will run within sight of the river, 
Always in honor of noble Hendrick Hudson's ship, before Fulton's 

time, who ran the first steamer, 
Not like some of the modern boats that burst their boilers into 

shiver, 
This plan struck one legislative Purserman, who was a good dreamer, 
That it was of very little m.atter so long as he had his hands in 
The city treasury, from aid of the pliant wool bags to pull all 
A few more dollars from the rich men who were plethoric in skin. 
For so long as the sheep are foolish, not brought up in their schooling 
What harm was there in robbing them to get a little more fleece. 



'• MON PEPOSr 37 

These geese were fat and wanted a goodly amount of pulling, 

What cared they so long as they could stay at home to complot in 

ease, 
When primary meetings were distilling all the gin 
Inside the bar-rooms of the publican and Tammany high-priests. 
It could not hurt these innocents abroad much to sin 
So long as they could brew a hogshead of headed beer with othet 

baker's yeast. 

IRemoriq.^ o): S'liing.^ Omitted 

" One great and kindling thought may live. 
When thrones are crumbling, and the memory of those who 
Filled them obliterated : and like an undying flame 
Illumine and quicken all future generations." 

—Channing^ 

Some things seem small but still have the best of sacred uses. 

Like the sweet germs of all the flowers that bursting from their roots, 

Bear in their calyxun-folded forms, like oil in cruises. 

These are but evolutions for their fully ripened fruits, 

Their lives are hid unseen, but unfolding every hour. 

What is the fruits but the true development of the stem 

That is brought forth in revolving and turn round the flower 

Untwisting while unravelling, revolves like the spindle in garments 

hem, 
As the light fingers turned the spinning wheel of old, 
That spun the flax in harmony when maidens held the work, 
To form the laces that wrought out fine filagrees in gold. 
That float in graceful fairy-shapes like philacteries of the frost work, 
To show the fact that angels' messengers from the outside world. 
In fluttering visits to sprinkle the windows and brushing Avith theii 

wings. 



38 '^MON REPOSr 

Left the children of the snow storm while the winds were hurled, 

And pattering steps tapped the glass in advent of the coming spring 

Then winter came not as the burial of the covered earth, 

Only to show how all things must bring forth a change. 

That all terrestial objects are but the development of a better birth 

And over all the heavenly hosts move in celestial range. 

She Ueijetabte-iSiirden, ^tab^s, ntict lai;ns. 

" Too many cooks spoil the broth " may well be truly said 

Of that sad poet who mixed up so many various things 

In a compound of fancies that is hardly to be read, 

Such as a curious medley of rythms and a satire about the rings 

Among such a lot of fixtures as stables and ricketty old barns, 

That stand between the first chapter and the finale at rest 

To end in the good products of the dunghill and the fertile farm, 

That are named in the catalogue as all of the very best, 

Of vegetables to be placed by the cooks on any man's tables, 

Consisting of prime potatoes and peach blossoms with eyes. 

That are to take all the prizes at the InstiHites stables, 

Alongside of cabbages or cresses and ripe corn for the prize, 

With asparagus and ockras and sharp rhubarb so tart. 

As to spoil all the egg-plants and carots so sweet. 

That all the blood beets turned quite red in the cart. 

So ashamed were the parsnips that the celery had to retreat, 

While the onions took to caressing the rutabago turnips 

And embracing the pumpkins by clasping the vine 

That the melons were detemiined to fairly water their lips, 

At such a distortion of principles they had to decline, 

So that all the committeemen had to consult on the case. 

And concluded by rendering a verdict, a true one of course, 



" MON REPOSr 3g 

Now the jury was certainly out, hut left in hot haste, 
For fear that the expense of the trial would not reimburse, 
They concluded, after dinner, by issuing a summary process. 
By a writ of injunction, to settle the whole and check all the matter 
Which was served by the sheriff, the result in the jail and duress. 
The cook paid the costs and dished the kitchen stuff in a platter. 
And to sum up the cause, she pitched the whole in a brown puree, 
And she told us, as one day she spoke from her place in her chat- 
ter, 
That in Irish woman's brogue, which she learned from Dundreary, by 

the way, 
A proverb, " That the cook is never at shorts for herself when the Boss 
has to pay " 

Old ^i;niant5» 

" A servant with this clause, 

Makes drudgery divine. 
Who sweeps a room as for thy laws, 

Makes that and the action fine, 
Whose eyes look up in faith." 

She serves who waits, and waiting serves the hours of daily need, 

" Whose eyes look up in faith to see her mistress " well, 

Shall reward her patience, a fit reward, from serving joy, a gift 

indeed," 
Which shall repay all her labors from a fountain dell, 
Which will flow from heaven with pure waters by buckets drawn. 
To fill the soul, her soul, through all reproof of weather or spite of 

thorn, 
With trust in good, will shield her front the proud man's scorn. 
And bring an angel in the early morn with his sword drawn, 



40 ''MON REPOSr 

To shield the faithful handmaid from sign of fear, 

And watching over her hidden secret, humble line of duty, 

Countenance her sweet submission and every toil and care, 

To give assurance to her heart and crown her rest with beauty. 

Such was the faith of one old maiden cook named Lucy, 

Who passed her life in silent service to her heavenly father ; 

She was formerly a princess, taken from the coast on Africa's shore, 

And died at last in the brown cottage not much farther 

Than fifty yards from the gate of her daily task of duty and grace, 

That what was meet to complete the objects of her mission, 

And was decently buried by the dear rector of Saint Mary's, whose 

lace. 
Much more meek than that of most of modern preachers, who lack 

submission. 
Another ancient dame of venerable aspect and mien, 
Was just as faithful in her walks, from the first day of this poem. 
She was of Irish descent, and was born in the green — 
For old Ireland was her birth place and earliest home ; 
She was a crone in her ways, and quite prompt in her duties, 
That no wayfaring fellow could approach to the gate 
So long as this old Cerberus stood near with her shooties, 
With all the dogs set upon these vagabond parties, 
To send them away without food or paraties. 
Thus her fame was well sounded abroad, 
And the premises well guarded from without, 
For shooting was expensive and murders played out, 
And the angel of peace is the voice in a word, 
And the shout of a female is enough with her shout ; 
And the fort of a man is his own private castle ; 
And Fortis in leges poteor in jure" 
Is the law of the Baron as well as the vassal, 



41 



" MON REPOSr 

And the screams of a woman is the yell of the furies. 

The result of all this, there was peace in the house ; 

And there's reason in all things, if we did but know it, 

For the fact of t!ie matter is that not even a mouse 

Could be kept in this mansion so long as the poet 

Of Bloomingdale lived there, with a cat for his friend ; 

And you know that an empty traveler may whistle 

Before the robber and his pistol — quotes Juvenal at the end, 

And wooden guns stuck in the sand-bags, bristh's^ 

Which are as alarming as the picket's sentry shout. 

But to return to the aged female, now grown old, 

She certainly knows well what she is about. 

For there never was a more successful scold. 

And we conclude with this secret for the ending 

That what she did not know was not worth the while to mind. 

Just like a message by a fool's hand is not worth sending. 

For you may still find another fool at the other end." 

This moral finds this portion of our servant's tale. 

If one wants friendship, never break your pledge ; 

If you be very honest keep away from jail, 

And never play with axes with a double edge. 

(Did (Kharlfij. 

Have we forgotten thee. Old Charley ? Hamilton, thy other nau'.e, 

Recalls a great State minister, who was shot by Aaron Burr, 

Not to have remembered thee, old color'd friend, would have been a 

shame. 
For thy services were constant, always ready, smart, and free from 

slur. 
How often do we find that *' like master, so is servant," 



^2 ''MON REPOSr 

So imitative that it looks as if his very shadow followed, 

As in the wake of a great rock, which the big pyramids in Sahara 

casts aslant, 
Where the shades of the ten thousand centuries look down, for I have 

borrow'd 
The grand Napoleonic Bonaparte idea, " his war in Egypt we can 

recant. 
Now this old nigger blackamore disliked to be called a black ; 
Preferred much the name of color'd as best suited to his mind, 
For his pride was as great as Lucifer — such reflection on the family 

was a rack 
Against his principals, whose treatment of them had been always kind. 
He was a disciple of St. Philip's, was an attendant at the church. 
Now he was a staunch Episcopalian, and quite constant in his prayers, 
His hymnals sweet, and his book of common ritual was a perch 
On which he could hang his perfect faith to solace all his cares. 
It was a feeling of great sympathy that bound them to his friend 
Of all the color'd race, for he was surely one of the family of Adam. 
There certainly was a negro in the ark, when ancient Noah did send 
The boat afloat, well pitched, shut up in Gopher wood as tight as any 

clam. 
It has been proved in later days that Herodus was not a liar, 
That one of the sons of Ham was not cursed among the rest ; 
That Nimrod was a mighty one, and a credit to his sire. 
And that the builder of great Nineveh was a man of woolly crest ; 
And ever since the day of yore, and even to the present day. 
It is told that the negro man was a great artificer in fire, 
And he had a hand in forging out the potter's clay, 
These casts of iron works from earthen pots that rise to higher. 
It may be this man was worth his weight in gold in former times, 
When men were chattels, held and let out as slaves for hire. 



" MON REPOSr 43 

But things have clianged since those days of barbarous crimes 

Did rule the vassal's soul and spoil the serfs for mercenary desire. 

The Lord has led captivity captive and given new gifts to man. 

The man of peace has spread his fostering wings o'er earth, 

And the angel has now risen in the shape of the pen ; 

And the sword turned to plow-shares has given new birth, 

For those offerings of Heaven to teach us that no being is so low 

That the true law of its maker shall not in justice confirm 

The full promise to the meek and the humble, the first right with love, 

For all human creatures, of whatever climate and form. 

It is alike in the tribute of equity and justice as their birth-right. 

And that every submission in the bending of stiff necks 

Make the easier yoke for the burthen to the back lighten. 

If the load that is bore by the oxen, we are taught by the texts, 

Is fastened by merciful hands of the loving master ; 

They will move all the faster if the muzzle is loosened ; 

And the end will be peaceful and the heart grow faster, 

For the hand that is crushed hides the hand of the coward. 

This old faithful servant at last gave out, and has passed away 

To the home of the aged ; he was taken to rest for a little while 

From his task of the body and his toil of the days. 

And in the fullness of time, after making his peace in a smile, 

He departed in the full assurance of the soul who prays, 

That it may have these hopes of Heaven rewarded, 

With the firm conviction that in the gathered harvest 

He would have the measure of his faith awarded. 

That he would reap what he had planted in the region of the blessed 

He was buried with all the ceremony of the church which he served. 

Among the faithful friends that waited at his burial. 

And was attended by the friends whom he rewarded. 

And laid his body in the Cypress Hill without further ceremony. 



44 '' MON REPOSr 

From grave to gay, from lively to severe, we turn away, 
And while the lamp of life holds out to burn, we pass 
To other work and change the nature of the sad, to play 
Among scenes of merriment and joyful mirth meet on the grass. 
Favorable to health are the pastimes of modern times, we find 
That picnics, or parties given out of doors, are often the most agree- 
able ; 
When pleasant friends assemble outside the parlors open doors. 
To enjoy the sunshine and festivities held under the noble trees, 

when the table 
Is laid out on the lawn, and the grass-plots form the needed floors ; 
What with the dancing and flirtations under the trelliced arbors, 
Mingled with the grouping of the croquet and archery, that noble 

game of the past, 
The day passes always merrily until after the spent hours, 
When the noon-day repast has been spread and gone, and the music 

last. 
All the while there is running a rapid stream of agreeable interchange 
Of civilities and conversation, and hospitalities extended to all the 

friends. 
And traveled guest comes in to compare and swiftly run the range 
Of all they saw in Switzerland — how l.hey climed the Alps to their 

ends ; 
And gave an account of all their little adventures and trips so strange. 
Of how it happens frequently, that some old friend we see again, 
Who long ago we met at school and had our fun together. 
Such chatting and gossiping between makes life appear a legerde- 

main ; 
And it turns upon the constant thinking thoughts about the weather. 



"A/ox /C/^rOS:' 45 

While some one will say whether it is best or not to drink your 

coffee 
When its hot or cold ; some say it's tea, the others don't drink bohea. 
Its all the same in Dutch, we say, just hand your tray to Cuffee ; 
And if you like, a little more sugar, and perhaps a little of the green 

tea. 
Then change to chocolate, and after slopping over a piece, take your 

plate. 
And waiter — bring me if you please. I'll take my cup upon my knee. 
That's the French fashion, we are told, when the ice-cream is not first- 
rate. 
And so the day goes, and ever>'body seems pleased to find themselves 

at ease. 
Where everybody is in such good humor, who could ever quarrel. 
For all good society is always on its very best behavior, sure. 
For there was no concern whether your grey mare was black or sorrel, 
So long as she had not the hippogippus, for that you cannot aire. 
So well engaged that time passed away like a charm ; 
There was nobody hurt, there \\as nobody to weep. 
Miss Jones had her lover, and Mister Brown had her arm, 
And all the old cronies cooed — all that they could warm 
The inside of his copses, and the fine Havana cigars for outside ; 
For the evening is coming on, and they are at a long distance, besides, 
And a long ferry to cros?, over the bridge there was a strong tide ; 
But there is a carriage for Tompkins and a gig for the brides ; 
There never was a party gotten up in such a grand style 
Since the Baron of Bronxville married the splendid Miss Tilly Giles, 
When they slaughtered ten oxen and roasted all the oysters in oil. 
Then the chief was a foreigner and belonged to the Wildes. 
In conclusion of all, that for picnics we have now to say in good is, 
That variety was always pleasing, but constancy is not, I think, for me. 



46 



MON REPOS: 



We have attended church picnics down in the Woodlawn Woods, 
And at Mount Morris, near where the Sixth Avenue high farms — 
That was given before Park enclosed the hnes of this hill — 
When the children went there to enjoy their fun and a nice swing. 
And good Doctor Deems is pastor of the Church of the Strangers stiU. 
He is a man after my heart, who seizes time on the wing. 
But the picnic of all, that beats great and small for rare fun. 
Is the one which one July was past by a Sunday School on the Bronx 
River, near the farm of one Popham, near Scarsedale, in run 
That leaves an impression on my mind like the seal of the onyx. 
There was music and dancing, and swings hung on the trees, 
Copenhagen, and caper, and carrolling, and heart's easing plants, 
There were children, and cradles, and babes nursed on the knees. 
But the grace that comes from this will comes back not aslant, 
For the bright sunshine of love has gilded that prospect forever. 
This was the gladness that gleams from, like the fullness of a river. 
And the crown of that gay scene, I pray, will never sink, 
For it beams like the moonbeams under clouds tinged with silver. 

(l^Iiarjties— Ii;ah and 'Salatte' gsijtinns. 

Now this good institution was in the care of good Mr. Guest ; 

All the children — half orphans — were well treated and surely well fe4 

For the bread was kept over till it was old and sweet, for the best 

Of wheat flour, well bolted and baked until it wed 

That blissful state of digestion that leads to good health — 

That waits upon appetite which comes from out-door 

Exercises and gymnastics, romps, walks, within and without, 

With plenty of sunshine, but not when the rain pours ; 

But a good ventilation always keeps the ills out. 

All the boys look so hearty and the girls are strong, 



MON REPOS. 



41 



That, taken together, they grow up, in spite of all weather. 

To make the best eitizcns that can ever be found ; 

So that when they come to be men and women together 

They were faithful and honestly formed, and be bound, 

As a well twisted cord round a bundle of sticks. 

In the fable of .Esop, where the man and his sons speak 

Of the strong bond of Union that, united, will stand 

Forever in friendship, so long as stars and stripes 

Remain on the flag of the American land. 

For the white and blue shield on the breast of our eagle 

Will rise as still Excelsior, the foremost of all nations, 

To protect all the people who hear the sound of our bugle, 

And mingle their red blood as true common relations ; 

Shall teach all the world that we are the offsprings 

Of one eternal parent for all future ages. 

And that to break this headstone of the fountain of springs 

Will leave the sad destruction of his hard written pages. 

So that the lesson to be learnt this year will show clearly 

That peace will reign, because the day has broken 

In no uncertain signs of glory in its glow. 

And all the passed sunshine our future joys betoken. 

This charity for orphans was founded by a fund left by two gentle- 
men 

Of kind and simple natures, who had faith in the belief that to take 
good care of little folk, 

Who had been bereft of parents, whether males or females, and de- 
prived of them. 

Was to make them capable of being able to help themselves, without 
much talk ; 

For " the least said, the soonest mended," is as true as " duty is la 
do"— 



48 " MON REPOSr 

Something for other people, not for self — to stand shivering oil the 

brink, 
Just as one must first button up your gaiters and then fasten well your 

shoe. 
We all recollect the fate of "Jink's Baby," who was left out with a 

think ; 
For he came to grief at last, after all the society's fine discussions 
About the manner of his disposing this thirteenth child of a father 
Who had an intention of just throwing it into the bottom of the river 

Cruseon, 
Thus to end all the trouble of providing for this infant without more 

bother ; 
But the mother interposed, when the cruel parent thought to send 

him 
To the convent care of nuns, with a ticket pinned upon his sleeves. 
Up the spout of the elevator's gift box, and after ring of bell to leave 

him. 
Such a proceeding was quite Catholic, and would save a world of 

grieves. 
It was much better than to drown it, after fastening it with a brick. 
And would have shorten'd all anxiety as to the fortune of the found- 
ling. 
It would save the care of hospital and relieve the committee of some 

work. 
And society would have suffered no great expense for the building 
Of the supernumerary cradling of an infant, less so light as cork ; 
But the kind Fates did order otherwise, and a good Providence 

stepped in. 
And mercy lighted up a way for the protection of this lone orphan. 
That was temporary relief, just as half a loaf cannot be sold for gin, 



" MON KEPOSr 



49 



And the solemnity of the holy causes, at loss, proposed another safer 

plan — 
To half ediicafe this new ofisprlng in the school about the origin 

of sin. 
That Christians even may differ in their many divers sects. 
But the trouble is too frail, a fact without any show of pretext. 
My good brother, Mr. Guest, comes with the rest to close 
The passages of this theme of household and homebred thoughts ; 
That seem to be given to me like the boquets of sweet roses, 
Long hidden in the midst of a bunch of violet forget-me-nots. 
What fairer binding could so well disclose the mind, 
That folds within the secret of the silent moving past of years. 
That were spent within the borders of this range of kind 
Memories of friends, that stray over me like falling tears. 
It may resemble more the dew-drop that slips between the jessamine 

and roses — 
Like diamonds, sparkling with prismatic rays through lens of sight. 
Those humid moistures of the soul in silent rests of hope reposed, 
And wings its buoyant weight towards higher flight 
Above the gloomy shadows that check its pregnant growth ; 
Aspiring ever as every happy form of earthly shape is taken 
To reach the zenith of the prime of its ethereal worth ; 
It beats with heaving pulses in the progress that it makes 
To fill up the measure and run its fuge in harmony of metre — 
To beautify the birth that crowned it with such lustre, 
And complete a perfect likeness to its outspring of feature — 
That from the buds that were gushing forth to bind the cluster, 
And fulfill the whole design in which it produce. 
Just as the flagroots bear, in husky mould of earthly root, 
The imperial emblem of the glorious Fleur de Luce. 
These garments of the fields hold not a more gorgeous shoot. 



50 '^MONREPOSr 

Compared with all the lillies of the valley, do not shine. 
For Solomon in all his glory was not like these arrayed. 
The hand that made them beautiful was the Lord divine, 
And human thought apart from Him has only s^trayed. 



©Id lufg's flate. 



Knowledge is the treasury — -discretion is the key to it ; it \% power, 

Some say, but wisdom keep, and you will reap your gain in the end, 

ll>ut to maintain your youth hold on to temperance during every hour 

Then fnigality will regulate the passions and be your friend ; 

While industry will be best illustrated by the bee-hive well stored, 

Which the busy bee doth gather every time she sips the honey 

From the flowers ', as she ski^^s along among the yielding fields. 

She fills her bags just as the merchant men their money. 

But it is in self-denial that the most exalted pleasure yields, 

The gold is hidden in the quartz-rock chasms in the mine, 

And be quarried out by the Cornish pick and under heavy blasts, 

And still the pure jewels of the metal need a process to refine, 

To form the costly bracelet', that the fair arms of maidens claap. 

So we learn a lessoi> that Frugalky is a fortune, and Industry a good 

state. 
Now all this was taught, at my request, one day to bring a platter dish 
Which old Aunt Lucy, kitchen cook, sent us for a porcelain plate. 
Which was embellished all round, to illustrate the fish 
Of pure morality, on which was wreathed all sorts of pretty sketches 
Of trees and temples, castles, landscapes, rocks and running streams. 
Cornucopia and date palms, bearing fruits alongside of foliage green. 
And other water scenes, amid bunches of grass and ships. It seems 
The letters round the borders were Knozvledge, Temperance^ and 

Indnstr)', seen 



" MON REPOSr 5 I 

Illustrated by the context of the bee-hive, with cliildieii's and women's 

heads and flowers. 
To express the last, and then a flowing fountain, with a tutor with his 

scholars standing at his feet to learn 
From Temperance, while Knowledge, with a globe and a ship in 

sight, teaching a youth under bowers. 
That Knowledge, with Temperance and P^ugality, would not serve a 

good turn. 
And in the centre of this wonderful dish of human knowledge. 
Were ihe elevated form of a noble palm tree, with mountain views and 

castle in sight. 
The warts on one's fingers can be cured by potatoes, applied 
In a poultice of starch, if there is strong faith in the boivl 
Of good starch that is thickened, not if the touchstone is tried, 
For there is only faith in odd numbers, said '' Rory O'Moreill," 
When he dreamed of his luck, when he waked up one night. 
To find that a nightmare had troubled his very vexed forehead ; 
He was startled by visions so he prayed with all his might 
That this phantom hob-^ohWn might be sent from his bed. 
So it is asked that no pruning shall be thrown across this goose quill, 
To stop the sad itch of writing from this table that will creak 
Under the pressure of something that sticks out quite plain. 
That had we only eaten a partridge instead of some hard quail. 
It might seem then that the poet had a softening of the brain,. 
Which might cause a convulsion and make a complaint for the ail, 
Or what would be worse than either, " The Leak or the JVaiti 

House," 
Bring another inmate of frenzy mto that neighboring asylum. 
That is called by the patients a good mansion for the carouse. 
What Adolphe Karr insists on, it is a wonder that sound folks. 
Should build such fine castles or buildings in brown stone. 



g2 ''MONREPOSr 

That looks as if they were to make them on some practical jokes. 

In order to keep the real crazy madmen outside on the curbstone. 

For it really seems all the rich brokers have grown older in crimes, 

And that stealing and robbing are merely some newly found gifts, 

Sent down by the lightning rods and fastened with red twines ; 

And that all speculators are quite handsome as true lifts. 

That by their petards are hoisted up by a better kind of blocks, 

To raise the wind by a kiting up through the spheres, 

And that idolatry and mammon worship is simply only stocks 

Of wooden presents saved out of the fires to be presented at the quin. 

tal years. 
Just as a bridegroom does to his lady, when he is lucky if he lives 
To see the fifth night anniversary of his wedding, provided always he 

survives. 
Knowledge is the treasury and discretion the key to open its hives. 
Well kept is the wisdom which is kept to foster your gains in youi 

sleeves. 
That will maintain your youth and live with happiness and in peace 

on his strives. 
It was the bold Argonaut sailor, who won the golden fleece. 
It regulates the passions and keeps you from sin and sorrow, quiet 

from thieves, 
And in self-denial is the most exalted pleasure fo\md in peace. 
While industry is best illustrated in the garden by a bee-hive store, 
That busy insect that gathers honey all the day from every flower. 
For there can be no sufficient gain without much pain any more. 
Like the practice of the French physician told his patient in the side 

hour, 
Quit medicine and study, and throw physic to the drains ; 
For frugality is a fortune, and industry will procure you a very good 
state, 



" MOX REPOS: 



53 



So that you mav live all the rest of your life without i)ains, 

Free frum ueuralj^ia and heartaches, which mii;ht trouble your pate. 

prospect 3;'ooIunc| Jlouiut Dloomiujgriale. 

As when the traveler in a storm looks forMard to the end of his 

journey, 
And sees the light gleaming out of the windows of his own house it 

lessens the \\^y ; 
His heart revives, and strong with the thoughts of home he travels 

easy ; 
He breasts the snows and bufieting the winds, thinks it all fair play. 
So does a writer who begins to write ot things familiar from his boy- 
hood, 
Thinks it long until he seems to feel that the end is not far off, 
And often jElatters he would like to stop his Pegasus if he well could. 
But deems it further ahead, like the mile-stone that seems to scoff 
His weary waiting for the termination of the ever shifting sign-board. 
This is so in a country where the roads are rough ; but now we are at 

home. 
The day of his years are passing swiftly and feel as if a long goad 
Was pricking us behind, and that we have no longer waj-s to roam. 
What shall we say of all the things that crowd around these pages ; 
Of the quails we have shot on the old farm ground and the woodcocks 

in the corn. 
They have gone, and the singing birds have flown before the guns 

of new gages. 
The rabbit, that once dwelt m safety along the edges of the running 

waters' tide, 
Have, with the timid hare, been driven away before the progress of 

the day ; 



^4 ''MON KEPOSr 

The cottages still linger in the old abode, standing by the wayside ; 
Think they must soon depart, they feel the inroads of the money mart 
The old Rock Cottage, with its whitewashed walls, speaks of the 

blind man, 
Whose eyes were struck out by the fearful blasts of powder, yet still 

do smart. 
He had no redress for the pain endured, for he himself did hold the 

can ; 
His family has never suffered, for the heart felt a sympathy for such a 

grief ; 
And simple faith and work, with charity from friends, soon sent him 

aid. 
And we have the locomotive steam stone rollers running along the 

road-bed. 
There is scarcely one cottage family left but Thomas Farrar's, people 

say, 
And omnibus and loaded wagons rattle over the gray Tilford rocks 

enough to raise the dead, 
And the railroad cars have long stopped to land us at the dock near 

Stryker's Bay ; 
And the churches are, except St, Michael's, looking up for keeps , 
The farmers all are selling out and turning out from their household 

beams, 
To seek their fortunes for their products as far as Oyster Bay heaps. 
Ten thousand changes have come over the spirit of our dreams. 
The old have left, the new old-folks seem to dwell strange and wide 

apart. 
And all the houses of the first owners or their tenants gaunt. 
Society, between the running of daily stages, is bound daily for the 

mart, 
And no one knows about his neighbors who do not leave the haunt. 



*'MONREPOS:' ,;c 

The barrooms arc increased, and tlie clubs so few and far between 
in round, 

Tiiat tlie ^igns are not painted fresh from the absence of repeated 
calls. 

Who can find relief in all the dwellers of the city more easily found, 

Without the expense of carriage hire, from the convenience of the 
meters walls ? 

When gas was given here it was only meant for the street lamp's 
ground. 

But one favored citizen found us without one day in a corner of 
darkness. 

And brought the metre up as far as the life of the nearest garden gate ; 

So thankful are we for all favors had, from one Supervisor friend's re- 
dress, 

We hope some day to recompense him, when we hope it won't be too 
late. 

There is one peculiar fact omitted, which is uncommon to the univer- 
sal whole 

Families of the human race, which is, that funerals have taken place in 
front of our doors. 

When the Angels of Death entered the mansion and stole irresistably 
away. 

Quite recently two burial cases, which are now covered with the 
snow. 

In other years two others were placed in the same cemetery within 
the same days, 

So now there are four that sleep together in the same tomb at Trini- 
ty's ground. 

Where their bodies are still laying with the same grave-yard they laid, 

Whence they will rest till the resurrection, when the trumpet shall 
sound. 



56 



" MON REPOSr 



And these dead shall surely come to life again, and be quickened in* 

deed ; 
For we are convinced by the rising of our own dear Lord from the 

tomb. 
Por death is not the gloomy mystery, but the dawn of thy birth is the 

glory of heaven indeed, 
And this fact was well witness'd by the Angels, that sealed this birth 

in the womb. 
How the Lord had declared it — -when he rose M'e were born, 
And the image of Death is a crown of jewels in glory and gold ; 
We, children of Heaven, were forced to be blessed. For all good is 

corn, 
And without the impress and seal of a Bread that is leaven and bliss, 
And the seed of the martyrs who died sown in their blood, 
Clear'd the church of much fog, and sets this truth with a kiss, 
•' Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be, 
As more of Heaven in each we see ; 
Some softening gleam of love and prayer, 
Shall dawn on every cross and care." — Keble, 




LECTURE ON 



SPRINGS & FOUNTAINS. 



j: *5^ INCE the time when Light first burst effulgent 
c(^€/ from the reahns of chaos, and life and animation 
from the depths of Erebus, mankind have yielded 
a spontaneous and superstitious adoration to the mystic 
charms of lakes, rivers, rills, and fountains. 

The ancients believed the Earth to be an extended 
plain, with a mighty river flowing around it. This broad 
and deep current they called Oceanus or the Ocean, of 
which the overflowing Nile was supposed to be a part. 

On the bank of this River were located the abodes of 
the dead, the islands of the blessed, and westward, in par- 
ticular the sweet fields of Elysium, fanned by gentle 
zepliyrs. 

The sun, moon and stars were supposed to have their 
habitation in these waters, both to rise and set in the 
same, and to leave their abode temporarily to minister to 
the wants of man. 



58 LECTURE ON 

As the sun was found to be the genial source of light 
and heat, and the moon of moisture, giving life to vegeta- 
tion, these two objects were soon worshiped in Egypt, 
under the name of Osiris and Isis. The one was granting 
life and heat by his flaming rays to all, the other as the 
nourishing mother of all. 

Among the early Greeks, too, the salutar}^ and benefi- 
cent powers of Nature were thus personified to such a 
degree, that in all the phenomena of ordinary nature 
they fancied they saw some manifestation of the Deity. 
Hence springs, rivers, and all waters, as well as living 
vegetables, became the embodiment of so many divine 
agents, and accordingly were peopled with Nymphs 
almost innumerable, but j^et of different orders. 

These Nymphs were thought to be endowed with pro- 
phetic powers, to inspire men with the same, to confer 
upon them the gift of poetry, and ability to heal a great 
variety of diseases. 

It will be the object of this Lecture to point out some 
of the more remarkable waters, medicinal and otherwise, 
in time past, connected as they have been with the 
observations and superstitions of mankind. 

Early historians relate that about Tarbelli, a town in 
Guinne, or Bayonne in France, and also in the Pyrenean 
hills, that springs both hot and cold were found to boil 
up so near together, that there seemed to be no distance 
between them ; that other places yielded waters, com- 
fortably warm and suitable for the cure of many diseases, 
as if (continues the historian) nature had set them apart 



SPA'/NGS AXD I'0C/.VTA/K3. J^ 

for the good of man only, and no other living creature 
beside. 

To these fountains, so medicinal, there was ascrihed 
some divine power, inasmuch as they gave names unto 
sundry gods and goddesses, also to such cities as Puteoii, 
Aurelia, Aquensis, Callidae Fontes-Aquae Sextiae, and 
others. But in no country were found springs more 
celebrated than in the Vale of Bajanus, in the realm of 
Naples, where there were some charged with sulphur, 
others with alum, some issuing from veins of salt, others 
yielding nitre, some evolving bitumen, and others both 
acid and saline. 

Here was the Fountain of Posideanus, so hot as to 
cook viands for the table. Here, too, were the famous 
Licinian Springs, boiling up beautifully from underneath 
the sea. These several springs, we are informed, were 
sovereign remedies for the infirmities of the sinews, for 
gout in the feet, for rheumatism, dislocation of joints, 
fractures of bones, dyspepsia, healing of wounds and 
ulcers, as well as for the accidents of the head and ears. 

But among the most distinguished of these springs 
were those bearing the name of Cicero, calle.l Ciceroni- 
an <x ; possessing extraordinary properties for clearing- 
the sight, and enlightening the eyes. 

It was here on the sea side, on the great road leading 
from Lake Avernus to Puteoii, that Cicero built his 
summer-house and study in a most beautiful grove. 
This beautiful villa he adorned with galleries, porches, 
walks, and alleys, and named it Academia, in memory of 



6o LECTURE ON' 

the Academia of Plato, on the River Cephisus, six stadia 
from Athens. 

It was here that Cicero wrote his books entitled 
"Academia Qiiahiionus ," ■a.ndi caused his own sepulchre 
to be built, thereby modestly declaring to the wor'.d, that 
he did not expect immortality from his writings. 

On the death of Cicero, this lovely estate came into 
possession of Antistius Vetus, a nobleman of Rome, and 
suddenly after his decease, in front of his late resi- 
dence, the above hot fountains, so healthful to the eyes, 
burst forth, as was supposed by divine agency. 

On the occurrence of this marvellous event, Laurea 
Tullus, who had been a slave of Cicero, but at length 
received his freedom, in affection to his late master, 
struck as it were by the inspiration of the divinity or 
nymph of the fountain, composed the following beautiful 
lines, which were legibly engraved on a Tablet set up 
over the Springs. 

Quo tua Romanse vindex clarissima linguae 
Sylva loco melius, surgere jussa viret 
Atque Academiae celebratam nomine villain. 
Nunc reparat cultus sub potiore Vetus. 
Hie etiam apparent lymphse non ante repertae. 
Lanquida quae infuso lumina rore levant : 
Nimirum locus ipse sui Ciceronis honori 
Hoc dedit, hac fontes cum patefecit ope 
Ut quoniam totium legitur sine fine per Orbem 
Sint plures oculis quae medeantur aquae." ^ 



SP/^//\rGS AND POUNTAWS. 6l 

Of this touching^ inscription Dr. Holland has given tho 
following translation : 

" O Prince of Roman Eloquence, lo I here thy grove in place, 
How green it is wliere planted first it was to grow apace. 
And Vetus now, who holds thy house, fair Academia hight, 
Spares for no cost, but it maintains and keeps in better plight ; 
Of late also fresh fountains here broke forth out of the ground, 
Most wholesome to bathe sore eyes, which erst were never found. 
These helpful springs the soil no doubt presenting to our view, 
To Cicero, her ancient lord, hath done this honor due, 
That since his books throughout the world are read by many a 

wight, 
More waters still may clear their eyes and cure defective sight." 

In Campania the fountains of Sinuessa cured men of 
lunacy and madness, and in the volcanic island of 
Aenaria (now Ischia), there existed a spring of such acid 
qualities as actually to dissolve stone in the bladder, and 
another very cold spring, possessing the same proper- 
ties, was resorted to for the same purpose in the country 
of the Sidicins, four miles from Teanum. Those who 
drank of the water of Lake Velinus experienced the same 
effect. 

Varro mentions a spring of this virtue at the foot 
of Mount Taurus and Calimachus, a river of the same 
operation in Phrygia, but of the waters of this river, 
if patients drank over a certain quantity, they were 
driven to madness. 

Ctesias reports the same of the Red fountain in 
Ethiopia. 



62 LECTURE ON 

The tepid waters near Rome, called Albulae, healed 
wounds, and the very cold springs among the Sabines, 
called cutilse, were remarkable for purifying the blood 
and giving tone to the S3''stem. Varro again reports that 
Titius Lord Praetor was cured of the loathsome disease, 
leprosy, by bathing in the Lake Alphion. We learn 
from a letter written by Cassius the Parmezan to Mark 
Anthony, that the river Cydnus in Cilicia was very 
effectual in curing the gout, while the waters about 
Troezan on the Saronic Gulf, were sure to produce gout 
and other diseases of the feet. 

Cicero, in his Admiranda or Book of Wonders, states 
that the waters of the Reatean Marshes were remarkable 
for hardening the hoofs of horses. Eudicus reports that 
in Thessaly there were two springs, one named Geron, 
and that if sheep drank of the waters of this spring, they 
Avere turned black. The other spring was named Melas, 
and if black sheep drank of that spring, they were turned 
white ; and that if the same sheep drank of both springs, 
they became speckled. 

Theophrastus also reports that both cattle and sheep 
that drank of the River Crathis, in Lower Italy, were 
made white and delicate, whereas the water of the Sybyris 
gave them a black hue ; and moreover, the same differ- 
ence was noted among the inhabitants of that country. 
In Macedonia those that would have white cattle, drove 
them to drink at the Aliacon, and those that wished for 
brown or black cattle, drove them to the River Axius ; 
and further, that those two waters affect even the colof 



SPRINGS AND FOUNTAINS. 63 

V 

of the vegetables growing on their banks in hike man- 
ner. 

In Boeotia, near the Temple of Trophonius, were two 
fountains; one that exceedingly helped the memory, 
while the other caused oblivion. Varro speaks of a river 
in Cilicia, near Crescum, the drinking of whose waters 
made people far more witty than before. At Chios was a 
spring that caused despondency, and another at Zamia, 
in Africa, that gave a clear, shrill voice. If a man drank 
of the water of Lake Clitonus, he lost all relish for wine, 
because (as Theopompus says) it made all drunk that 
used it. 

Polyclitus describes a fountain in Cilicia, whose fluid 
proved a substitute for oil, and Theophrastus another of 
like quality in Ethiopia. Lycus reports a similar spring 
in India, used for lamps, and yet another at Ecbatane, the 
capital oi Media. 

In Phrygia, near the town of Celaenae, were two 
springs, one of which is said by Theophrastus to pro- 
duce laughing, and the other weeping, and that they 
were so named accordingly. 

Ctesias speaks of a Pool in India, in which nothing 
will swim, but all sinks to the bottom, and Coelius re- 
ports the same of leaves that fall into Lake Avernus. 
But in the Lake Apuscidamus in Africa, the water is so 
dense that nothing will sink. The safne has been re- 
ported of the well of Saturn in Media. 

Pliny reports a river in Bythinia, by the temple of 
Bryazus, the drinking of whose waters was sure to detect 



54 LECTURE ON 

a perjured person, by creating internal inflammation, and 
also states that the three sources of the great river Tam- 
aricus in Spain, were endued with the secret virtue to 
presage and foretell future events. These fountains 
ceased to flow and became dry at least three times a day, 
notwithstanding a spring near by flowed without inter- 
mission. 

If persons visited these fountains and found them 
flowing, good fortune was supposed to attend them, and 
on the contrary if found dry, as was especially noted in 
the visit of Lartius Licinius, Lord Praetor and Lieuten- 
ant-General under the Consuls. Indudea, a small river, 
was said to omit flowing regularly every Sabbath day. 

Ctesias reports a river in Armenia abounding with 
fishes, but if any person ate of those fishes they died 
very soon afterward. The same was said to happen to 
all who ate of the fishes of the extreme head waters of 
the Danube. The same was said surely to happen to all 
who ate of the fishes in the Pool of the Nymphs in Lydia. 

Pliny, in his Natural History, relates that in Arcadia 
near to the River Peneus, a water floweth out of the 
rocks called Styx, so corrosive and pungent that it would 
eat its way through all vessels containing it except the 
hoof of a mule. Theophrastus states that fishes lived in 
the water of the Styx, as deadly as the water. Theo- 
pompus describes the waters of Thrace called Cropsos, 
which killed those that drank thereof. Lycus also men- 
tions a fountain among the Leontines, of which if peo- 
ple drank they died w.i-thin three days. 



SPJilNGS AND FOUNTAINS. 65 

Near the liill of Soractc (says Varro), there was a boil- 
ing fountain four feet in diameter: this water was well 
tasted, but many animals and particularly birds, that 
drank thereof, died upon the spot. A very cold spring 
of this description existed at Nouacris in Arcadia. 

In the beautiful Vale of Tempe, in Thessaly, was a 
fearlul spring that rapidly consumed brass and iron. 

In Macedonia, near the Tomb of Euripides the Poet, 
two rivers flowed together. The one most wholesome 
to drink, the other noisome and deadly. Anciently there 
were found cold petrifying waters in Troas, and hot 
petrifying springs in Delium Euboea. At Eurymenae in 
Thessaly, was a well that petrified all chaplets and gar- 
lands thrown into it. (The same is seen at the present 
day in the cave at Matlock in Derbyshire). 

At Colossee in Phrygia, was a river into which the in- 
habitants put unburned bricks and tiles to make them 
hard instead of burning them. In the famous caves of 
Corycia, the drops of water percolating through the roof 
congealed into stalactites like icicles. There was a won- 
derful exhibition of this nature at Meza in Macedonia, 
where gigantic stal.xtites were suspended from the 
vaulted roofs of caverns. At the fountain of Juno in 
Mesopotamia, the water was said to have a very agreea- 
ble odor, and to retain its pleasant odor some time after 
it was taken from the spring. 

The celebrated " Flumen Oblivionis" or river of for- 
getfulness— the Lethe of the ancients, flowed in the 
channel of the river Limea (now called Lima), in the 



66 LECTURE ON 

western part of Spain. It obtained the name of Lethe 
because a party of Celts on a warlike expedition, by 
drinking of its waters wandered away, lost their com- 
mander, and even forgot the object of their expedition. 
The legend was afterward so generally believed, that 
Brutus Gallaicus with great difficulty led his army over 
this water when he invaded Gallacia, B. c. 136. 

From this and like circumstances relating to the trib- 
utary of the Meander in Ionia, and the stream identified 
with the gardens of the Hesperides sprung the Lethean 
fables, in the same manner that Lucian founded his dia- 
logues of the dead on the river Styx, after Antipater at- 
tempted to poison Alexander with its waters. 

But of all fountains on record, none was considered so 
extraordinary and wonderful as the Fons Solis or Foun- 
tain of the Sun, described by Strabo, Herodotus and 
Diod Sic, and situated in a beautiful grove under the 
walls of the Temple of Jupiter Amnion in the Great 
Lybian Desert. It was called " Oraculum Hainmoftis,'* 
twelve days from Cairo, and one hundred and sixt}'" miles 
from the Mediterranean inland. During the middle ages 
it was called Saiitariak, and now by the Arabs, Siwah. 

The plain or valley surrounding this remarkable spring 
is described as fifteen miles long, twelve broad, and two 
hundred feet higher than the valley of the Nile, sur- 
rounded with a circle of limestone hills so as effectually 
to protect from the shifting sands of the desert. 

Here numerous springs broke out both fresh and 
saline, the fertility surpassed description, and the whole 



SPJ^INGS AJ^D FOUNTAINS. 67 

Oasis was literally a n:reen island as it were, deluj^cfl with 
vegetation, and yet in an ocean of sand. The latitude is 
twenty-nine degrees north, so that the sun in summer 
was nearly vertical. 

The peculiarity of the water in the fountain was that 
it was moderately warm at sunrise and gradually grew 
colder till noon, when it was of icy coldness. Then the 
temperature began to rise and went on increasing till 
midnight, when it was boiling hot. Afterwards the heat 
moderated so that at sunrise it was warm as before. 

The mystery of this fountain, so wonderful and inex- 
plicable to the ancients, is easily solved by the aid ot 
geological investigation and the principles of hydrosta- 
tics. The Oasis, as we have before said, was surrounded 
by limestone hills, which in all probability, as usual ccmi- 
tained numerous subterranean caverns. These caves 
would give rise to intermitting or syphon springs similar 
to those now found in the limestone valleys of Virginia 
and Kentucky. The cave in the hillside would be filled 
slowly by innumerable capillary tubes, set together in 
the form of a strainer, while when full its body of water 
would be discharged through one channel or opening in 
half the time required for filling it. Here then were two 
syphon springs intermitting alternately, one hot, the 
other cold, both discharging their waters from the same 
outlet on the surface. At noon the cold one alone 
flowed, while the hot one was filling, while at midnight 
the hot one alone flowed, and the cold cask or ca\'ern 
was being filled ; in the intermediate time their waters 



68 LECTURE ON 

were commingled, and the temperature graduated accord- 
ingly. ; 

It is not uncommon for both cold and hot springs to 
rise out of the ground in juxtaposition. The hot springs 
of Virginia rise out of limestone rock, and while you 
may scald one hand in the hottest of these springs, you 
may hold the other at the same time in a spring painfully 
cold. Now if these springs intermitted alternately, as 
many springs do in limestone districts by bringing them 
into one channel, the same effect would be produced at 
the hot springs in Virginia as in the Oasis of the Lybian 
Desert. 

We will now leave the mystic fountains of the ancients 
with their retinue of nymphs and sybils, in order to de- 
scribe those of more modern date, which, notwithstand- 
ing the /^^/// of science and civilization, are still clothed 
with the darkness of ignorance and blind supersti- 
tion. 

I There are at this time in the western district of Eng- 
land, a large number of wells and springs, and at least 
ten or twelve in Wales, all of which are supposed to pos- 
sess extraordinary virtues. These are idenlified with as 
many wonderful saints, and their marvellous effects are 
still conspicuous in working miracles, healing diseases, 
as well as conferring domestic authority upon husband 
or wife, who shall first drink of their waters after the 
solemnization of marriage. 

At the well of St. Enny in Cornwall, women assemble 
on Holy Thursday, and throw pins into theclear water, 



SP/HLVGS AND FOUNTAINS. 69 

observing how the heads and points lay, for thereby in 
their belief, their future fortune is determined. 

On other particular days, people collect at St. Madcrn's 
well near Penzance, and st.mip upon the ground, believ- 
ing their fate to be determined by the bubbles that rise 
in consequence. 

Bishop Hall, in his "Mysteries of Godliness." has des- 
canted largely on the virtues of this well, and the popu- 
lar belief in its efficacy has by no means ceased, for here 
cripples still are cured by its oracular waters, but in all 
cases according to the measure of faith in the invalid. 

Another spring or well in the same neighborhood is 
dedicated to St. Keyne, near to a church of the same 
patron saint. 

This well not only possesses wonderful healing proper- 
ties, but is sure to give undisputed authority to husband 
or wife, who first drinks of it after being married at St. 
Keyne's Church. Carew in his Poem says of this well : 

' The quality that man or wife, 
Whose chance or choice attains 
First of this sacred stream to drink, 
Thereby the mastery gains." 

Ot late years the young brides have learned to outwH 
their husbands by carrying a bottle of the water to the 
church, so as to drink immediately at the conclusion of 
the ceremony. 

If from Cornwall now we proceed to Wales, we shall 
find in the southern part of the Isle of Barri, off Cardiff 



70 LECTURE ON 

a beautiful clear spring, where, as at St. Enny in Corn« 
wall, women assemble on Holy Thursday, and after wash- 
ing their eyes in the clear water, drop pins into the 
spring to determine their future good or ill success. 

The well of St. Beuno was for a long time noted for 
curing the rickets and other maladies, but it has of late 
given place to the still more remarkable well or fountain 
of St. Winnifred, which is reckoned among the seven 
wonders of Wales. 

This well gushes impetuously from a rock at the foot 
of a hill, and is covered with a gothic structure of great 
beauty, said to have been erected by Margaret, mother 
of Henry VII. By a decree in Chancery it has been 
thrown open to the public, and Catholics resort to it, be- 
lieving that it has lost none of its legendary virtues. 

A pamphlet published to substantiate the character of 
this supernatural fountain is entitled "Authentic Docu- 
ments, relative to the miraculous cure of Winnefred 
White, of Wolverhampton, at Trefynnon or Holy Well, 
Flintshire, on 28th June, 1805, with Observations thereon 
by J. M., etc,, etc." 

Two festivals are observed here, one in memory of the 
martyrdom of St. Winnefred, on the 22d of June, and 
another for her translation to heaven, on the 3d of No- 
vember. The water passes through an arch into a square 
court, where devotees were accustomed to swim as an 
act of penance. 

The origin of the well is quite as miraculous as its 
effects. Saint Winnefred was the beautiful daughter of 



SP/^INGS AND FOUNTAINS. 71 

a Welsh nobleman nunied Thcwith, and iii(>ce of St. 
Bueno. She obtained leave of her father to found a 
Church here, and having made a vow of perpetual chasti- 
ty, was taken under the especial patronage of St. Buenc 
Caradog, a young Prince, son of King Alen, admiring her 
beauty, went one Sunday morning after her father and 
mother had gone to church, to ask her hand in marriage. 
Instead of giving him an answer, she runs on the hill- 
side for the church : Caradog pursues, and on receiving 
from Winnefred a decided refusal, was so enraged that he 
drew his sword and cut off her head at a blow. As the 
story goes, Caradog fell dead on the spot, and was never 
seen after. Winnefred's head rolled down the hill to the 
altar where the congregation were kneeling, and there 
stopping, the fountain immediately gushed up. St. 
Beuno caught up her head and joined it to the body, 
which immediately reunited, the place of separation be- 
ing marked only by a white line around the neck. The 
sides of the well were thenceforth covered with a sweet- 
scented moss, and the stones at the bottom became 
tinctured with her blood. She survived decapitation 
fifteen years, and having received a veil from St. Elerius, 
to hide the scar upon her neck and protect her beauty 
against vulgar gaze, became Abbess of a Monastry in 
Derbyshire, and there died. 

On her decease the well, of course, became endowed 
with many miraculous properties. 

With all due deference to Romish tradition (says Rev. 
Mr. Nicholson), the sweet scented moss is found to be 



J2 LECTURE OM 

nothing more than the Jungermania Asplenoldes, Well 
known in Botany, and the supposed tincture of her blood 
on the rocks at the bottom of the Byssus iolithus of Lin- 
naeus and the Lepraria iolithus of Smith. 

The devotees of the saint were formerly very numer- 
ous, but of late have somewhat diminished, leaving their 
crutches and hand-barrows among the ornaments that 
adorn the Gothic roof. 

This wonderful spring, of which Horace would say: 
"O Fous splendidior vitro,'' discharges at least eighty- 
four hogsheads per minute, never freezes or scarcely 
varies in drought or the greatest rains. 

Thus we see how wily superstition throws her chains 
and fetters around mankind in the use of one of the 
simplest elements of life, blinding them to the sight of 
heaven and common sense, leading reason into bewilder- 
ment, and yet at the same time revealing through the 
mists of ignorance the great and important fact that 
cleanliness next to godliness is great gain, healing most 
of the maladies "life is heir to." 

It is the province of Chemistry and Philosoph)'- to 
strip off this dark mask of superstition and ignorance, 
and to show mankind what this essential element of 
water really is. Not mechanically, as in the broad ocean 
where it is the handmaid of commerce and the highway 
of nations — not in the large rivers where it becomes the 
foundation and opulence of cities, uniting mankind in a 
great scheme of Providence, conveying from shore to 
shore, and interchanging from town to town the produc- 



SPRINGS AND FOUNTAINS. 73 

tions of the earth ; but chemically as when it is necessa- 
rily and economically regarded as the common food of 
the vegetable and animal kingdoms, chemically and phil- 
osophically as it becomes connected with agriculture and 
the various mechanic arts, as in its elastic state of steam 
it propels the fleetest ships, drives the fiery car, and in 
various ways performs the labor of half the human race. 
Philosophically, as penetrating the atmosphere and cir- 
culating over our heads, it becomes associated with the 
whole doctrine of aerial and atmospheric phenomena, 
forming a home and hiding-place for the fierce lightning, 
assisting largely in painting the beautiful scenery of the 
sky in the economy of clouds and vapor, yielding alter- 
nately its most essential nourishment to man in fertiliz- 
ing showers and the gentle dews of heaven ; and finally, 
chemically, as a universal cleanser and purifier, and there- 
by rendered the most appropriate symbol of the purity 
of heart and life, without which no man shall see the 
Lord. 




TANNING 



] ^S KINS, when fresh, are soaked eight hours in run- 
>i^^ ning water, the dry ones being taken out every 
^^'J' day and softened on the leg. Then put in solution 
made by boiling two parts wood ashes and one of quick 
lime ; then decanting this liquor into a vat and diluting it 
with a sufficient quantity of water, grating on bottom to 
keep skins from the ashes. In eight days hair removed, 
then scraped with round knife, then tied on stick and 
put in running water to wash off ashes, etc. After 
three days, taken out and washed on hair side, and hung 
up to drain, fleshed and trod out with the feet. The 
smaller skins are now soaked twenty-four hours in a 
trough, filled with a mixture of fecula canis et aqua 
therma, then taken out, cleansed, rinsed, and macerated 
for twenty-four hours in bath made of oatmeal and malt, 
then deposited in tan liquor for three days, then 
sprinkled over with finely powdered oak bark, and piled 
up above the grating of the vat, which is filled with 
equal parts of water and tan liquor. The small ones 



^e TANNING. 

remain in this for eight days, the larger, longer. After 
this, taken out, rinsed, trod out, fleshed, put back in vat, 
after being sprinkled over with tan powder as before. 
This repeated four times, last time left in vat four weeks, 
then taken out, stretched and dried, and given to the 
currier to polish and color. 

RED PRODUCED FOR ONE HUNDRED SKINS. 

Two pounds and nine ounces of alum is used and 
eighteen ounces of red sandal for each large skin, and 
nine ounces for each small one. The skins are seweo 
around in small stitches, forming sacks, except a small 
opening for the coloring matter. After coloring, var- 
nished with birch bark and whale oil, and when nearly 
dry, subjected to the grainer or cylinders covered with 
wire or spirally grooved ; dried and sprinkled with hemp- 
seed oil, and polished on the horse. 

Lombardy poplar contains 3.12 per cent, tannin, giv- 
ing an odor like that of Russian leather. 

The leather made from kid and lamb skins owes its 
agreeable odor to the bark of the willow with which it is 
tanned. 

ROTCH'S process of TANNING 

Is causing tanning fluid to penetrate one side while 
artificial heat causes the water that passes through the 
other side to evaporate, increasing the strength of the 
tan in the leather, and preparing leather thereby in ten 
days, which would otherwise require ten months. 



TANNING. ri 

RUSSIAN SKINS, 

When ready for tanning, are put in a warm solution of 
salix cinerea and salix caprea, immersed and worked in 
'it half an hour, repeated twice daily for a week, then 
fresh decoctions another week, then dried, dyed and 
oiled with birch, etc. 

RUSSIAN LEATHER. 

The color of red sandal is probably put on with a 
brush. 

MINERAL TANNING.— ^i?r^/>rV PrOCeSS. 

Digest twenty-two pounds of powdered green copperas 
with two and a quarter pounds nitric acid, Spe. G. 1333, 
and three pounds sulph. acid, in large stone jars, heated 
by steam, repeatedly stirring it (avoiding the red poison- 
ous fumes), until the mixture is cold and pasty. After 
twenty-four hours, dilute with water q. s., and add 
freshly prepared hydrated per oxide of iron in excess, 
and after standing four days, with occasional stirring, is 
ready for tanning. Per oxide of manganese may be used 
instead of nitric acid. 

Soak the skins in this, properly diluted, three days for 
thin skins, and eight days for sole leather ; sub sulphate 
of iron is absorbed— sulphuric and nitric acids remain in 
the mother liquor. 

CAVALLIN'S PROCESS. 

First nacerate the skins in a solution of alum and 
chrome salt, then in a solution of proto sulphate of iron ; 
reaction and interchange of elements ensue, so that the 



78 TANNING. 

compound of iron and chrome unite indissolubly with 
the tissue of the hide to form leather, which is brown, 
tough, compact, and after much soaking, does not lump 
under the hammer. The hides must be unhaired by lime, 
drenched thoroughly, rinsed and hung up to drain ; 
avoid using acids in any way. 

Bath. — Dissolve ten pounds bichromate of potash 
and twenty pounds of alum in i8o pounds of water; 
immerse for four days, drawing them once every twenty- 
four hours, allowing them to drain, and rubbing them 
each time as they are returned to the bath, and keep up 
the strength of the liquor by new additions, by one of 
chrome and two of alum. 

PROTO SULPH. IRON BATH. 

Dissolve ten pounds green copperas in sixty pounds 
of cold water, suspend the skins so as not to touch each 
other, and draw them once in twelve hours and return 
them to the bath sufficiently to complete the tanning. 
Upper leathers require five to six, Swedish sole eight 
to ten, and American butts thirteen to nineteen days' 
immersion in the liquor. The strength must be kept up 
by additions of copperas throughout the treatment. 
Lastly, take them out, hang up and drain free from slimy 
matter; soak thoroughly in running water, so as to 
wash out all saline matter, and finish in usual manner. 
Upper leathers made in this way are said to be supple 
and soft, — is blacked by Mordent sat. solution of alum, 
with eight parts copperas, and then rubbing over strong 



TANNING. 79 

decoction of logwood, then oiled and finished in usual 
manner. 

DYE TANNING, 

Based on the fact that gelatine, dissolved in a decoction 
of Brazil, Heath, or Fernambogue or other dye wood, is 
precipitated as an insoluble compound on the addition 
of a little chrome salt. First immerse in a solution of 
alum of four ounces to the gallon , or rather preparator)^ 
immerse in a dye of one gallon of the above dye with 
four gallons of water ; must be frequently stirred, lie in 
for twelve hours, then hung up till nearly dry, then laid 
in the strong dye and stirred three or four times a day, 
till dyed through. Then hung up to drain before putting 
in the chrome bath of ten pounds bichromate of potash 
to 1 80 gallons of water for twenty-four hours, drawing 
them and allowing to drop three or four times, then 
hung up, drained, then soaked three times in running 
water for twenty-four hours. 

The Bath must be frequently refreshed by additions of 
chrome salt. Lastly, put in the drying room, stretched 
smooth, blacked and oiled. Sole leather needs no 




CREATION. 




LMIGHTY GOD, Jehovah, He 
First willed and said " Let waters be." 
•^y^]" Almighty God, the Infinite, 

Then willed and said " Let there be Light." 
Enkindled flames preceding years 
Rolled into suns and moons and spheres ! 
Matter thus formed at his command 
Receives its motion from His hand. 
Matter thus formed from nought before * 
Receives its impress evermore. 
Throughout the vast extended space 
New suns are formed and fixed in place, 
Till systems numerous as the sand 
Move all harmonious by His hand. 
Galaxies vast in depth and height, 
Baptised afresh in new-born light, , 



• If God did not create matter from nothing, except his own wil', then something 
besides God has existed from Eternity, or otherwise two Eternals— an absurdity. 



82 CREATION. 

Are planted in the depth afar 
With blazing gems in every star ! 
While ages that on ages rolled, 
In numbers more than can be told. 
More clusters into being came 
Than I am able here to name, 
Or time allow me to rehearse, 
Upbuilding God's vast universe. 

Creations on the First Day of the Solar System. 

On the bright shore of Milky -way 
Bursts forth our Sun, blest orb of day ! 
And circling planets round him shine 
Obedient to the hand Divine. 
Hence as an offshoot from the Sun 
Earth's revolution is begun, 
But cloudy vapors soon divide. 
And Earth from Sun awhile do hide. 
Till day and night opposed appear, 
And Day the First begins the Year. 

Creations on the Second Day of our Solar System. 

The Waters flow on every side 
Till God the waters does divide. 
When beauty to qur World is lent. 
Encompassed by the Firmament, 
To let bright sunbeams bear the sway 
And thus complete the Second Day ! 

Creations on the Third Day of our Solar System. 

The mountains now their heads do rear 
And sunny plains at length appear, 



CREA TION. 83 

The clouds are scattered by tlie breeze, 

And waters gather into seas ; 

The Grass now clothes the verdant plani, 

Trees, flowers, and fruits and waving grain — 

Enchantingly the Earth doth sing 

The Third Day's labor of her King. 

Creations on the Fourth Day of the Solar System. 
As Time must have its destined sway 
And place assigned in the Fourth Day, 
Sun, Moon, and Stars are called to aid, 
And thus the base of ages laid 
For our Terrestial Sphere to claim 
Its own duration and its name. 

Creations on the Fifth Day of our Solar System. 

The Waters now awake to life 
And Fishes swarm m playful strife, 
Birds crowd the air with rapid wing. 
As from the deep huge monsters spring ; 
The Eagle plumes and soars away 
As twilight shuts the P'ifth long Day. 

Creations on the Sixth Day of our Solar System. 

The Land is now electrified. 

And creatures move on every side ; 

Of Beasts, all sorts, and creeping things — 

A wondrous herd Sixth Morning brings 

Forth on Earth their powers to try, 

Both to increase and multiply. 



84 CREATION, 

CREATION OF MAN. 

Thus far Creation is confined 

To various structures without mind ; 

But now God's Spirit breathes from heaven, 

And life, immortal life, is given. 

A thrill through all creation ran — • 

Behold ! the wondrous Being — Man ! 

In God's own image, upright made 

Of all on earth the destined head. 

With mind and reason, far above 

The animals that round him move. 

But man alone unfinished is— 

Some one to share his sympathies— 

An " help meet " needs to make him whole 

And fill the measure of his soul. 

He lies him down in sleep to rest, 

Most deeply yearning to be blest : 

Again God's Spirit breathes from heaven^ 

From his own breast is Woman given. 

Both now are one in heart and soul ; 

Both are but parts of one great whole ; 

Each made to serve for other's good. 

Never to differ if they would ; 

In virgin sweetness loving, she 

Yields unto man her destiny — 

The last best gift to man, to be 

In innocence and purity — 

Creation's climax — chief of all 

Organic forms on earthly ball. 

The Sixth day's labor, now complete, 

The Morning Stars their songs repeat ; 



CREATION. 85 

Unnumbered woikls their authems raise 
To herald their Creator's praise ! 

THE SEVENTH DAY, 

The Seventh Day morning now appears, 

Like the preceding days or years. 

Consistent with those gone before, 

In time the sanve — no less, no more. 

Jehovah lays his work aside 

And views the starry heavens spread wide. 

Unnumbered worlds their songs employ — 

Unnumbered beings filled with joy — 

His vast domain is yet untrod ; 

O what a vision for a God 1 

This Seventh Day's most divinely blest — 

Jehovah's day for holy rest. 

Thrice holy hence its hours let be. 

In worship pure and charity. 

Till all Seventh days, to man thus given. 

Prepares his soul to enter heaven. 

GEOLOGICAL INFIDELITY IN GOD'S RECORD OF 
CREATION, 

But men there are who rise and say 
God's eve and morning mean iwt day. 
But something else they cannot tell, 
And thus uphold the lufideL 
How low their views of God must be, 
Omnipotence in Deity ! 



86 CREA TION. 

How little know the powers that ply 
Through ocean, earth, the air, the sky ; 
What elements convened will do, 
Instanter working wonders new ! 
Could they but stand aside and see 
The handy work of Deity — 
Magnetic streams the mountains form, 
Galvanic piles their work perform, 
Crystallic forces, early, late, 
All earth at once precipitate ; 
The acids seize the alkalies 
And bubbling effervescence rise ; 
The mingling gasses rapidly 
Fill the vast ocean to the sky, 
To cool electric streams of fire — 
How would they wonder, how admire ! 
Would they their calculation try 
And find how races multiply. 
By doubling each quintuple year 
A strange result would then appear 
Of shells more numerous than the sand 
On Ocean's shore, or leaves on land : 
E'en in the years before the flood, 
By figures sure well understood, 
In twenty years now let us see 
If man could not well doubled be. 
In sixteen hundred, then 'tis clear, 
A billion souls on earth appear 
• Before the flood had swept away 

Said billion from the light of day. 



CREA TION. 87 

Let us again our Bible read 

And to its word give special heed , 

On this quotation thought employ, 

" Lo ! Man with earth will I destroy." 

—Gen. vi. 13. 

THE DELUGE. 

What overturnings must have been 
In Earth's destruction for Man's sin ! 
The mountains washed quite to their base, 
And Ocean's bed much changed in place, 
Volcanoes opening many rents 
And Earthquakes lifting Continents ! 
Yet these men say, " Liiprobable, 
Such changes are too notable ; 
We cannot see how coal was made 
Li such short time as Moses said, 
Or great fish-lizards fill the seas 
Listead of whales in times like these, 
Or big bone mammals traverse earth 
Posterior to old Adam's birth. 
We do believe that Nature tells 
Of countless ages in the shells, 
Of ocean's bed, and inland bogs, 
W'here sported once huge polywogs ; 
And goblins danced for ages more 
Ere man appeared upon the shore. 
Long time it took for trees to grow. 
Sufficient for the coal you know ; 
Then must they sink beneath the tide^ 
Strange sorts of fishes o'er them ride ; 



CREATION. 

And some of them yet caught within. 

For now behold their scales are seen. 

Then sands wash on to form the stone. 

Used now for building hard as bone. 

As fermentation slow goes on, 

Long time it takes to fonr* carbon. 

The seam then comes above the surf — 

Is strewed with seeds and green with turf; 

Till trees again the whole o'ei-spreads, 

When down they go to form new beds. 

All this before a man was seen 

To pluck the fruit in Eden green. 

Now by the single rule of three, 

"We trace each coal-bed^s history. 

If one alone such time requires, 

The whole no less than myriad years : 

But then the cooling we forgot, 

Our molten world, at first so hot ; 

As lava cools so slow, we say. 

Millions of years make just one day. 

The icebergs then, we have been told. 

For ages chained the earth in cold — 

And hence it is well understood 

That afterwards there was a flood ! 

What ages then to form the sand, 

Composing rocks in New Holland, 

Thousands of feet in thickness laid. 

As seen from sea the shoieland head. 

Now all these ages, side by side, 

Witli numbers more not multiplied. 



CREA T/OX. 89 



Shut up in space six thousand years — 

What monstrous folly it appears I 

The Bible Record, thus you see, 

Is not considered true to be,^^ 

Had these men seen a chicken hatch 

In some lone place spread o'er with thatch, 

They would conclude quite otherwise, 

With ample proof before their eyes. 

From one cold egg all this is done — 

Blood warmed for days just twenty -one. 

What has produced the change they see ? 

Ah ! the galvanic battery ! 

With this addition, to be sure, 

The simple rise of temperature. 

How great the change ! how short the time I 

From albumen, the yolk, the lime. 

Thus much effected by the hen, 

In countless years what might be seen ! 

Just fourteen elements in all 

Mature the chick within the ball. 

Or should they trial make with clay, 

Well stirred with water we would say. 

Let stream galvanic through it run. 

Twelve months at least the work is done : 

'Tis slate upright, without dissent, 

As proved by Hunt's experiment. 

Should they another trial make 

With sediment from some mud lake : 

Let stream magnetic flow again. 

Two kinds of rock would they obtain^ 



90 CREATION. 

Amorphous one, and trap beside. 
As seen in hills that plains divide. 
If twelve months' time doth this effect 
On currents vast, let us reflect. 

FORMATION OF COAL. 

And now the Coal-beds, how are they 

Formed from vast forests swept away ? 

By river tides, like Amazon, 

Into the seas with sands upon 

Them, till as dough from baken bread 

Yeast fermentations through them spread I 

With increased heat as new freights come. 

When ash becomes potassium — 

Carbonic acid present then 

At once gives up its oxygen. 

And leaves the carbon to explain 

Each kind of wood, the very grain, 

Just like the writing on a note 

When burnt to ash, away to float. 

The sifting action of the sea 

Gathers the sand one family ; 

Also the iron, clay, and lime. 

For heat to harden in short time, 

And rise to light, and bloom as Eden, 

As rises now the coast of Sweden. 

GREAT SANDSTONE FORMATION OF AUSTRALIA. 

At last remain the banks of sand. 
Formed into stone in New Holland, 



CREATION. 91 



(On tills vast rock groat pains are spent 
To found the strongest argument ;) 
In height three thousand feet or more, 
Extending far tlie island o'er. 
In explanation of this fact 
Observe volcanoes how they act, 
Outpouring lava in a tide 
Into the ocean far and wide, — 
Soon as saltwater meets the stream 
\Ve then behold the power of steam. 
Reducing it at once to * sand, 
UpfiUing vallies — forming land. 
The saline steam serves a cement 
In building this new continent ; 
Northward and East Australia 
Volcanoes countless wildly play, 



* The great eruptions, a lava falling into the sea in the Sandwich Islands, par- 
ticularly that of the Volcano Kilanea, June ist, 1840, described by Rev Mr. Cown, 
in Missionary Herald, Vol. 37, page 2S3. The following is an extract from Rev. 
Titus Cown's letter: " Imagine to yourself a river of fused minerals of the breadth 
and depth of Niagara, and of a deep gory-red falling in one emblazoned sheet, one 
raging torrent into the ocean ! The scene as described by eye-witnesses was terribly 
sublime. Two mighty agencies in collision. Two antagonistic an-d gigantic forces in 
contact and producing effects inconceivably grand ! The atmosphere in all directions 
was filled with ashes, spray, gases, etc., while the burning lava as it fell into the 
water was shivered into millions of minute particles, and being thrown back into the 
air, fell in showers of sand on all the surrounding country. 1 he coast was extended 
far into the sea for a quarter of a mile, and a pretty sand beach formed. Three 
hills of scoria and sand were also formed in the sea, the lowest about two hundred 
feet, and the highest about three hundred feet. For three weeks this terrific river 
discharged itself into the sea with little abatement. Multitudes of fishes were killed 
and the waters of the ocean were heated for twenty miles a'ong the coast." 



92 CREA TION. 

Evolving molten streams of fire 
From 'neath the sea and mountains higher, 
• These streams converted into sand, 
What else to form but New Holland? — 
To rise and shine like other lands, 
Though mostly formed of arid sands. 

CONCLUSION. 

Now in conclusion v^^e vi^ould say 
A few more w^ords on Sabbath-day, 
To those who think the seventh not past, 
And countless ages yet to last. 
; Their logic strange, yet quite as good 
As that they use ere came the ^^ Flood.** 
If the seventh day is yet to last — 
Who can remember what's not past ? 

Let us in adoration fall 

Before Jehovah, Lord of all, 

Nor vex ourselves too much about 

His wondrous ways, " past finding out." 

How long or short the time may be, 

When measured by eternity ! 

Sufficient for us all to know 

That to the Judgment we must go. 

Reap the reward of actions here 

In worlds unknown beyond otir sphere, 

W^here God's Great Laws illumined bright, 

Will endless shine in clearest light. 

Moses Oxygen. 
Edinburgh, May 31, 1866, 



THE GOLDEN CALF. 



OR THE 



ALMIGHTY DOLLAR. 




REEDOM had fled from Earth with bitter tears, 
Finding no spot which she could claim as hers : — 
Now hail'd by men, with greetings of pure joy, 
And now rejected as a worthless toy, 
Now worship'd and rever'd by all mankind, 
Now torn from hearts where she was late enshrin'd, 
She saw that those, who by her care she'd bless 
With all things that insure man's happiness, 
Turn'd from her shrine of pure simplicity, 
Lur' d by the golden pomp of tyranny ; 
And gave up all most dear for man to own, 
To bend liefore a sceptre and a throne. 



94 THE GOLDEN CALF: 

Hopeless, she fled, in sad despondency, 

And wept to think man never would be free. 

But when a New World from the ocean rose, 

Among its wilds a rugged home she chose : 

On her bright mission coming yet once more, 

Beaming with hope, she lit upon our shore, 

Resolv'd to strive to bliild, across the sea, 

A lasting monument to Liberty, 

And show the world a truth of high intent — 

That men are equal to self-government. 

See the result — though but of recent birth, 

We stand among the greatest pow'rs of earth : 

From thirteen States despised, and weak, and poor. 

Our empire reaches, now, to either shore ; 

And as it, thus, with giant pow'r expands, 

The railroad links it with its iron bands. 

While fleets of steamboats throng our inland seas, 

And Commerce bends her sails to ev'ry breeze ; 

In the Far West, whole forests swept away, 

Cities arise where they stood yesterday, 

And Agriculture, with her fruitful hand, 

Sows plenty broadcast o'er our favor'd land ; 

While Education opens unto all 

The old log field-school, or the college hall. 

And now the Old World gazes in surprise. 
To mark our greatness, and our sudden rise ; 
And tyrants, and decay 'd nobility. 
Fear that their serfs, who our example see. 
May turn upon the foot that's crush'd so long. 
And by one effort strike down hoary v^rong. 



OR, THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR. 95 

But — sad reflection — nations once were free, 

As great, and far more powerful than we, 

Who now are fallen, most corrupt, and base, 

Degraded, and a stigma on their race ; 

Potent no more, except in what depraves, 

They move upon the earth as crawling slaves. 

See Rome, now impotent and fall'n, hurl'd 

From her proud place as Mistress of the World ; 

Gone all her pow'r, and gone her dauntless pride, 

And strength which, singly, all the world defied ; 

Gone her proud monuments, her temples gone, 

Her forum but a shapeless mass of stone ; 

Her navy gone, her boasted army is 

Replac'd by regiments of hireling Swiss ; 

Her name, that once could haughtiest monarchs tame, 

Becomes a by-word for disgrace and shame. 

Yet once the meanest of that grov'ling herd. 

The while a haughty pride his bosom stirr'd, 

Had stood defiant, e'en to kings, to claim 

That homage due unto a Roman's name. 



Then let us seek to trace th' unvarying cause 
Which rules all nations with unerring laws ; 
And, found, let us endeavor to avoid 
That one great vice by which they're all destroy'd, 
For all the experience of the past will teach, 
That else we their degraded state must reach. 
'Tis love of gold, the parent vice of all 
Those other vices which weak man enthrall ; 
For wealth, well used, by Providence design'd 
To make a nation glorious and refin'd, 



96 THE GOLDEN CALF: 

Is far too apt to ruin, and deprave, 
Degrade the good, and enervate the brave. 
The rich, indulging in each vile excess, 
Mistake debauchery for happiness, 
And by base revel, and the low debauch, 
Fan into flame their country's fun'ral torch. 
The poor, who thus their bad example view, 
Demoralized, forget the instincts true 
Of man to good, and, imitating them, 
Lose all the noble attributes of men. 
Till, plung'd in an excess of luxury, 
Corruption, vice, and crime, at last we see 
The long-doom'd nation totter to its fall, 
And melancholy ruin whelming all. 



Thus it has ever been, will ever be, 
Like the fatal fruit of the dead lotos-tree, 
Which floats its vot'ries on delicious dreams, 
And pours enchanting thoughts, in plenteous streams. 
Through the enraptured brain, and, for the time, 
Brings visions bright, and glorious, and sublime. 
But leads the man, through pleasures, most intense, 
Unto a dark and awful impotence. 

Shall we then make the golden calf divine. 
And place his statue in a holy shrine ? 
Shall we begin to bend to, and adore, 
An idol that is fatal evermore ? 
And shall we this religion drear adopt, 
That's ever found so false and so corrupt ? 



OK, THE ALMIGirrV DOLLAR. 97 

Sad truth wc have — so pleasing are its rites, 
Each day brings in new crowds of proselytes, 
The worship now begun— we'll place us nigh, 
And see each fervent neophyte pass by. 



Far be't from me to sneer at those whose place 

Would mark them as the teachers of their race, 

Who, if sincere, like their great Master, should 

Go about ever seeking to do good : 

Here to give comfort, there to chide, or warn 

The sinner's feet from paths that lead to harm ; 

To tend the sick, console some racking grief. 

Or lead the doubter on to firm belief ; 

Thrice happy lot, to them also 't is given. 

To turn the thoughts of criminals to heav'n, — 

Little by little to inculcate good. 

And lead these from a life of hardihood. 

To learn the error of their ways, and trust 

A God that's always merciful and just. 

While Faith's blest light upon their bosoms pours, 

And substitutes repentance for remorse. 

A life like this is truly good and pure, 

And, if sincere in't, none could wish for more ; 

And though, undoubtedly, some faithful few 

Are conscientious in whate'er they do. 

Yet many a clergyman, I'm much afraid, 

Adopts his calling as he would a trade. 

And while he'd scorn to be a humble teacher. 

Strives to become a fashic:)nablc preacher ; 

As if he'd suffer beneath heaven's frown, 

Unless he held forth in a church up town. 



98 THE GOLDEN CALF: 

He tends no sick, he comforts no distress'd, 

He gives no aching bosom bahiiy rest, 

He never enters at a humble door, 

And ministers unto the suff 'ring poor ; 

And if he would, how should he have the art. 

Lacking two things — sincerity and heart ? 

No, once a week, in drawling tones, he pours 

Upon a yawning audience a discourse. 

His tidy kids are daintily drawn on, 

And pure as innocence his spotless lawn. 

He waves his kerchief, edged with richest lace, 

And lengthens piously his rev'rend face. 

He speaks of angel choirs, — his thoughts are far 

Among the gems of last night's opera ; 

Of heav'nly joys, which no one values less, 

And looks admiringly at each new dress ; 

Tells us of holy truths to which he's careless, 

And looks with venal eye upon some heiress ; 

And when the blessing's given, and he's through, 

Hastens to Smith's, to dine with a choice few ; 

Or of petitions, mayhap, signs a score 

'Gainst slavery, which he thinks is a sore 

Blot on our nation, and against th" intent 

Of the Constitution ; but ne'er gives a cent 

To help a freedman, or to buy a slave. 

Oh no, he gives his all, the surpliced knave, 

In that cheap substitute for charity 

Which mock philanthropists call sympathy. 

In a few years he tires of the routine, 

And wishes, good man, for a change of scene 

When, practising a sort of pious fraud, 



OR, THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR. 99 

He gets bronchitis, aiul is sent abroad. 

Such men too oft — 0I1, shame unto our kind ! — 

Among us, in this golden age, we find : 

They lead the way where all the others follow, 

Aiid worship only the Almighty Dollar. 



Then after him behold the sage M. D., 

A weighty man in the community ; 

He's your best friend, ador'd too by your wife, 

And ushers all your children into life. 

In sombre black he drives 'round in a gig, 

Takes snuff, chews rhubard, and he wears a wig. 

Whene'er a patient he is call'd to see, 

Our Esculapius talks most learnedly ; 

A poultice he a cataplasm will call. 

Bleeding depletion, and, at times, lets fall 

A monster word like this one " diarrhetic," 

Which means the opposite to, an emetic. 

He hems, and haws, and asks your tongue to see, 

And then in Latin writes his recipe ; 

And when at fault, puts always " quantum suff.," 

Which in plain English only means enough. 

He's a philanthropist — a constant strife 

He wages 'gainst the various ills of life ; 

When in his presence, hint but at a pain, 

And you will try to 'scape his clutch in vain. 

He feels your pulse, then questions you quite close, 

Inspects your tongue, and orders you a dose ; 

And when, at last, you're really made unwell. 

He puts a muffle on your front-door bell, 



100 THE GOLDEN CALF 

From your abode proscribes your dearest friends, 

And hired nurses of his own he sends. 

And, after things have gone awhile this way, 

He calls upon you four times ev'ry day ; 

Ne'er say " I'm better," and ne'er ask " why is it ?" 

The Doctor's always paid so much a visit. 

You are, my friend — you'll pardon me, I beg — • 

The goose who lays, for him, the golden egg, 

And he's not fool enough, like him of old. 

To put an end to that which brings him gold. 

Yet he, at length, when forc'd by decency, 

Permits you, first, a friend or two to see, 

Then lets you rise, a moment, from your bed, 

And to your window has you gently led ; 

And, when you've this a week or so endur'd. 

He then pronounces you completely cur'd. 

And sends you in — thank God, the thing's no worse — 

A bill, requiring a strong, healthy purse. 

Next comes a bustling, busy little man. 
Whose restless eyes seek ev'rything to scan. 
His pale, thin lips, wreath'd in a constant smile, 
Mark him a man of strategy and wile ; 
One who has not a sole redeeming trait, 
And whom all men should justly execrate : — 
He is a man expert in all that's evil, 
A Lawyer, and first cousin to the devil ; 
A great peace-maker, who, as it appears. 
Always pulls folks together by the ears ; 
One who has done far more in his life 
Towards keeping up fell rancor, and stern strife, 



OR, THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR. lOI 

Among tlie human family, than all 

Men of all other kinds since Adam's fall. 

He loves to see relations, dearest, learn 

To hate each other, let their bosoms burn 

With every passion that is base and ill, ! 

Striving, for gold, to break a parent's will. 

But most he loves to hunt out an old flaw. 

Which proves some title-deed not worth a straw ; 

Instant he seeks you, and says. Sir, this land 

Is yours, if you a little suit can stand ; 

Explains it all, and makes the thing quite clear, 

And you a very injur'd man appear. 

While he, one of that philanthropic brood 

Of hell's own hatching, seeks naught but your good. 

And if, by chance, you to a suit agree, 

Before you know it you're in Chancery, 

And, well in Chancery, the Lord knows when 

You'll live to get well out of it again ; 

Year after year the thing drags slowly on. 

Until at length 'tis over, and you've won ; 

And when, at last, you've gotten safely through 't. 

He brings a bill in longer than the suit ; 

He never acts from feelings pure and kind. 

But like his goddess, Justice, is quite blind ; 

Holds out his hand, takes all that he can get, 

And counts all fish that come into his net. 

Expert in all th' expedients of fraud, 

He sets at naught, not man's laws, those of God , 

No Christian motives prompt him e'er to lend 

His services the suffring to befriend. 

The wrong'd and cheated are to him as naught, 



102 THE GOLDEN CALF: 

Provided his opinion is not bought ; 

The weak may bend beneath oppression's heel, 

Gold is the only touch-stone he can feel : — • 

Soulless, like corporations, he will act 

For either side, and with the nicest tact, 

And do the dirtiest things for a good fee, 

Provided he can do them legally. 



The next man, see, his face all thin with care, 

His brow is furrow'd, and all white his hair ; 

A merchant, with his coffers running o'er, 

Day by day striving to increase his store ; 

His ships, deep-laden, plunge through ev'ry sea. 

And wealth pours in upon him plenteously. 

Yet, as he works assiduous for gain. 

Full many blots his flexile conscience stain. 

He holds to his word with scruple most intense, 

But wrongs at any time his moral sense ; 

His boasted honor is a show most hollow, 

Which he has sacrificed for many a dollar : 

When selling so low that he can but lose, 

He's gaining profits that would shock the Jews. 

His maxim is his store to increase, 

Seem honest, and the unsuspecting fleece ; 

If he e'er give a sum in charity. 

The thing is done for show, and publicly ; 

He gives it thus, because he feels quite sure 

That, in the end, he'll gain by it much more. 

As actors, now and then to make a hit. 

Perform for some asylum's benefit : — • 



0A\ T/IE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR. 103 

Among tlic congregation he appears, 
One of the calf's most ardent worshipers. 



He whom all eyes with such mark'd rev'rence follow, 

Is, so to speak, friend, an incarnate dollar 

A golden Mars, waging perpetual war 

In the stock market, as a bull or bear ; 

Or haply owns a bank, not worth a fiddle, 

Deep in the bottom, or far in the middle 

Of some imaginary lake, with all 

Sorts of imaginary capital ; 

And when our broker a round sum has made. 

You find some day your friend the " wild cat's" dead, 

Or your " white pigeon" flown. A serious joke— 

Your broker and his fancy bank are broke. 

Or else he issues spurious bonds for stocks. 

Or, with a wire, picks his own strong box. 

Our quondam bull no more his horn'd head tosses. 

But then retires to live upon his losses, 

And takes his place (earn'd — oh most worthily — ) 

As high-priest of the gold divinity. 

Behold an editor— see what his tone. 
Who rules a reading public, like our own ; 
Who, as he works for good, or its reverse. 
Becomes a nation's blessing or its curse. 
What is his tone ? He changes hour by hour. 
Striving to gain the patronage of pow'r ; 
And tries to sway the public by his views. 
For his own good this moral force to use. 



I04 THE GOLDEN CALF: 

Hear him the course of factionists lamenting, 

Woi'king, the while, to get the public printing 

See how, when foil'd in his selfish aims, 

His unbias'd sheet th' administration blames ; 

Like him who, outraged, shifted his position, 

When told he couldn't get a foreign mission. 

Yet they have pow'r ; they know it, and they use it — 

Unhappily, too often they abuse it ; 

This side or that they will denounce, or praise, 

According as the rival bidder pays. 

Their country's good these patriots ne'er consider, 

They always write for him who's highest bidder : — 

They're like the rest — they worship that same gold, 

And can, at any time, be bought or sold. 

Time was when our fair country hail'd, with pride, 
The patriot band who rallied to her side ; 
No sordid motives their pure breasts imbued. 
Who thought of nothing but their country's good ; 
No dream of pay or place e'er cross'd their mind, 
But, rather, ease or wealth each one resign'd, 
And bravely fought, through times of deepest gloom, 
For those yet lying in the Future's womb. 
Our rights attack'd— the dread alarm is giv'n. 
And echoed by the arching vault of heav'n ; 
Each infant colony takes up the cry. 
And stern men arm to conquer or to die ; 
Each noble patriot feels his cause is strong— 
'Tis mighty Right contending against Wrong. 
W^ell may each vein with strong emotion thrill, 
And honest pride our heaving bosoms fill, 



OR, THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR. 10$ 

As we behold this firm devoted band 
Fight for the freedom of their native land. 
Now, campless, bivouaeking cheerfully 
Among the noxious swamps of the Tedee ; 
And now, half naked, leaving, as they go, 
Their bloody tracks on Valley Forge's snow ; 
And when they've won proud Saratoga's field, 
And forc'd, at Yorktown, our stern foe to yield, 
Not yet their labors over, nor their care, ^ 
The Senate calls them to new duties there ; 
And their great aim, throughout the long debate, 
To make the people prosperous and great. 
Far other now— the Patriots all are dead— 
We have the politician in their stead : 

A brood of vultures, which around us rise, 

Ready to pounce upon each carrion prize. 

These men are in the market, and the cry, 

"Patriots for plunder, come, who'll buy— who'll 
buy ?" 

What care they for the country? What care they 

For those whose votes they canvass'd yesterday ? 

Now for economy — it has a charm — 

Now vote each lazy vagabond a farm ; 

Now fillibusters, and all annexation. 

Now it would be destruction to the nation ; 

Now they swear ev'ry foreigner 's a rogue. 

And now they "love the sound of the dear brogue ;" 

To-day Free-soilers, the next Union men. 

The next day for the woolly-heads again ; 

Now for the highest tariffs, now for small, 

For or against just anything at all :— 



fo6 THE GOLDEN CALF: 

Vile demagogues, who care not what they say, 
Or how they act, provided it will pay. 
Selfish, unprincipled, most vile and base, 
They'd barter off their souls for pay and place ; 
Shame they have none, and honor is a word 
The have forgotten ever to have heard. 
They worship naught but principle, we're told— 
Another name for our same calf of gold. 



Who that poor youth whose dress and mien proclaim 

One made his sex to burlesque and to shame ? 

But just eighteen, a man he apes to be, 

Though lacking all to make one worthily ; 

Just heart enough to send blood through his veins, 

And tongue enough to show his want of brains ; 

Man in his vices he can imitate. 

Not in one virtue that does palliate ; 

His day is spent round stables and 'mong grooms, 

Or swallowing brandy in low drinking-rooms ; 

At night he to some hell will staggering go, 

And lose his father's money at faro ; 

Or, in some fashionable brothel, mends 

His mind and morals 'mong his female friends. 

Nothing that's sensible for him — oh no— 

Our brainless man conceives that it's too "slow." 

If you e'er ask him how his time is past, 

He smiles, and tells you New York 's dev'lish fast ; 

Says he has been "out driving on the road," 

Or " in a rum-shop taking on a load ;" 

He sups at Claremont with a crowd to-night, 

Where doubtless they'll e;et beautifully "tight ;" 



OR, THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR 107 

Or mayhap lie afTccls the old roue 

And yawns and grumbles, and says he's blase ; 

Has cut the theatres, and parties, too, 

And wishes he could get ui) something new. 

But our American taste is very low— 

And as for living— why, we don't know how. 

He thinks it's dev'lish hard— what do you think? 

He feels quite dry— suppose you take a drink. 

Look at him— yes, you justly may say faugh— 

He is that thing styled ** Young America :" 

A thing more apt to make you sigh than laugh— 

A beast begotten by the Golden Calf. 



Behold the two last draw up at the door- 
Each one, you see, arrived in coach and four. 
Tompkins and Smith, two of the upper-ten, 
Who're made by this calf-worship among men. 
For upper-tendom— I don't mean to shock it — 
Measures a man, friend, by his depth of pocket. 
Smith has a large palatial residence, 
Furnish'd and built regardless of expense. 
Enter and look— what man could wish for more ? 

There's nothing wanting money '11 buy, I'm sure. 

He has bois de rose, and buhl, and marqiieirie, 

His carpets Aubiisson tapisserie. 

Objets de virtu priceless, rich, and rare, 

And our best sculptors' handiwork, are there ; 

And pictures, too— although it seems he aims, 

In them, at nothing but the richest frames ; 

Wheel'd vehicles of all sorts 'neath the sun — 



io8 THE GOLDEN CALF: 

Berime, caleche, coupe, and phaeton ; 

His horses are the finest that you'll see. 

His servants wear the richest livery : 

In fine, he's of the ton^ — the most elite 

Society at Smith's grand balls you meet. 

And who is Smith ? To see him, you'd declare 

His condescending smile and haughty air 

Stamp him a snob — one of the newly great, 

Who gain'd his station after his estate : — 

Pretension, egotism, and conceit. 

Give you our hero's character complete. 

Smith was, as all his fellow-townsmen know, 

A baker once, who kneaded his own dough ; 

Who, when in life he first began to start, 

Was not too proud to drive his own bread-cart : 

He was industrious, understood his trade, 

And, by degrees, a little money made ; 

And when, in time, he a small fortune earn'd, 

Dough, trough, and shop, and bread-cart, all were 

spurn 'd ; 
On Wall-sti-eet he was early seen, and late. 
In town-lots he'd begun to speculate : 
He sold and bought, and sold again and bought, 
The city grew, lots eagerly were sought ; 
Until, at length, things got to such a pitch. 
One fine day dawns, and Smith's immensely rich. 
And having now made quite enough to dash on. 
He thinks he'll enter in the world of fashion. 
As the first step, he builds his house up town. 
And furnishes it, as already shown 
And, as th' aristocratic feeling warms. 



OK, I'lIE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR. IC9 

He steps down street to buy a coal of arms. 

The Herald — for so well this thing docs pay, 

We have a Herald's office on Broadway — 

The Herald asks him, with a solemn phiz, 

Which fam'Iy of the myriad Smiths is his. 

His father was a shoemaker, he knows — 

No farther back his genealogy goes. 

And therefore, as his questioner knew well, 

He answers that he can't exactly tell ; 

But other people have them, and he'll pay 

As much for one as they can, any day. 

The Herald then — " Dear sir, your shield shall Ije 

Made from parts of the prettiest two or three, 

That's well enough, and by the way of crest. 

We'll take the one that suits your fancy best.' 

Now well equipp'd with ev'rything lie needs. 

To give a splendid ball he next proceeds. 

And for the company he sends for Browne, 

The sexton of a fancy church up town. 

Who always takes around the invitations 

To the balls of persons in the " highest stations," 

And by a sequitur which I can't see. 

Introduces blackguards in society. 

In France nobility has gone so far 

For noHveatix riches, snobs from America, 

As to invite guests to the nabob's ball, 

With this proviso, they invited all. 

Regarding him as a restaurateur 

\ /ho furnish'd them with music and good cheer ; 

And did it gratis, too, and cheerfully, 

Provided he fed aristocracy. 



no THE GOLDEN CALF: 

But New-York high-life justly this reverses, 

And bends before its man of pews and hearses. 

He gives to vSniith the names from his own list, 

And the next day is with the cards dismiss'd : 

Beati-monde turns up its nose awhile, for show, 

But finally concludes' that it will go. 

The host|is vulgar — but he entertains 

Uneducated — ^but a man of means ; 

A low upstart, whose talisman's his purse — 

My friend, most of them are as bad, or worse. 

Besides, we know society's benign 

To those who feed it well, and keep good wine :— 

Thenceforward Smith holds up his head 'mong men, 

And takes his place amid the upper-ten. 

When Smith on Fortune's wave began to ride, 

Tompkins his trade as a poor tailor plied : 

But he, too, wishes in the world to rise. 

And, as he works, learns to economize. 

He fits quite well, is moderate in charges. 

And, with his business, he his shop enlarges ; 

Expanding then in views and fortune both. 

He turns a merchant, and he deals in cloth. 

He imports largely, has " a run of luck," 

And with th' aristocratic feeling's struck. 

The first step in his upward path, of course, 

Is a fine house, and he builds one perforce ; 

But why repeat— like Smith, he calls in Browne, 

And fetes the fashionable part of town. 

On Tompkins' house new days begin to dawn. 

His hissing goose is, now, a splendid swan. 



OR, THE ALM/CI/TY DOLLAR. Ill 

Altlioiigh Smith, who preceded him some years, 
Has for society's stability great fears ; 
Indeed, Smitli's family all grow quite savage 
At his success, and make hints about cabbage, 
While proud Miss Smith, contemptuously, says 
She does despise those upstart Tompkinses. 



Poor human nature — if these folks must rise. 

Why let them, 'tis not they that we despise. 

Let them have Crossus' wealth, or richer be, 

We lose not our resj>ectability. 

But, once admitted to the place they sought. 

Let them remember their position's bought ; 

Let them avoid all airs, and all pretension, 

Nor always act as if in condescension ; 

And above all, when others, good as they, 

Rise from a station they held yesterday. 

Let them not talk as if they could look, far. 

Beyond their own plebeian ancestor. 

I'll tell to them a truth the whole world owns, 

*' Ye dwellers in glass houses, don't throw stones." 

No, act with dignity in your new place. 

Nor think your origin is a disgrace ; 

Try not to hide, nor drag it into view. 

Let it alone, the world will do so too ; 

Seeking to hide it is a vulgar shame. 

To show't a false pride equally to blame. 

No — keep the even tenor of your way, 

Of others' origin have naught to say ; 



112 ''HE GOLDEN CALF: 

Once ris'n, tis contemptible and mean 
To sneer at that which you yourselves have been. 
You rose through wealth, and let not a purse -pridCj 
Make others speak of things you'd gladly hide. 



It is o«r country ^s honor, and its boast 

That each man may attain to any post. 

Man's mind is free to judge of any fact. 

And, as he judges, he is free to act. 

Religion, government, whatever it be, 

*Tis still the same, man's mind is always free ; 

The people's holy voice decides on all. 

Acclaims the statesman, or it dooms his fall ; 

And each of those who with his voice's might. 

Proclaims his verdict with a freeman's right. 

No matter if the humblest of the throng. 

Who honor honesty, or punish wrong-. 

Feels, as he's standing there unknown to Fame, 

With nothing his except a freeman's name, 

With nothing there to raise him 'bove his kind, 

Except the stern will, and the powerful mind, — 

With not one friend, by place or riches strong, 

With but himself to help himself along, — 

With conscious pride, feels that great truth sublime. 

That he may win a name to last through time ; 

That want of birth aiid wealth gives naught to fear. 

Where high or low may run the same career ; 

And he, if he have mind and honesty, 

The strong resolve, and firm integrity. 



OR, THE ALMIG/ITV DOLLAR. 113 

May, step by step, rise up and take his place 
Among the highest, loftiest of his race ; 
May win that post, the proudest man can fill. 
The freemen's ruler, by the freemen's will. 
Yes, this is so ; but, answer me, how oft 
Does worthiest merit bear a man aloft ? 
How many men, of intellect and worth. 
Are crush'd and kept back, not by want of birth, 
But by the want of wealth ? — that cursed god 
That rules our nation with a tyrant's rod. 
While others, who haVe not one clann to be 
Rais'd from their birth-right of obscurity, 
Attain that place which those may vainly crave, 
Carried aloft on Fortune's golden wave. 
Most sad avowal, yet alas ! too true, 
Gold is all povv'rful — gold can all things do. 



Yes, glorious gold, 't is thus each day we see 
Goodness and truth subservient to thee. 
Thou mighty god, near thee all others pale, 
Thy power alone it is can never fail. 
We bend to thee with superstitious awe. 
And humbly greet thy presence from afar. 
Thrice povv'rful Deity, we worship thee 
Supreme, oh most august Divinity ! 
Thee ever honor, to thee give all praise, 
And to thy service consecrate our days. 
Thou great, benign, serene Omnipotence, 
Eagles, half eagles, dollars, dimes and cents. 



114 THE GOLDEN CALF: 

And still dread awe our tlirobbiiig bosom fills, 
As we contemplate thee reduced to mills. 



How few of those who seek wealth do we see 

Who make no sacrifice of honesty ; 

How very few of those who wealth inherit 

Are ever men of any worth or merit ! 

The heir, what is he mostly in our day ? 

Weak debauchee, or profligate roue ; 

His mind is weak and vulgar as his taste, 

His moral sense is blunted or debased : 

He has the vices, but is lacking quite 

The refinement of th' effem'nate Sybarite. 

While those who lack wealth, truth most melancholy. 

With these vie in extravagance and folly ; 

Owing their house-rent, and yet giving balls, 

Their butcher, and yet hiring op'ra stalls ; 

Preying on him who tnists them, or who lends, 

Cheating their tradesmen, and defrauding friends. 

Their whole life is a fraud, and a deceit, 

Their creed rascality, their aim to cheat ; 

Steal a few half-dimes, and the world cries, shame. 

Let it be thousands, and you get no blame ; 

That is, don't rob a man, that's deadly sin, 

And vulgar too— but "make it out of him :" 

Go cheat the government, but let it be 

A good round sum, and do it legally ; 

Then revel on the proceeds of your fraud. 

Fear nothing, feast men, and they'll all applaud ; 



OK, THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR. 115 

Defraud an orphan, on your ill -got gains 

Give balls, in cntertainuienls spare no pains ; 

Go sport you lord-like, build a princely house, 

And give a periodical carouse : 

And then 't is not the theft that's wrong, you'll see, 

But going to the penitentiary. 

Men hold the doctrine Spartan boys were taught. 

To steal's no sin, but only to be caught. 

Riches is what by all is most desir'd, 

And who has most of it is most admired. 



Who then e'er made th' assertion weak and rash, 

And foolish, he " who steals my purse steals trash !** 

That great man whom I honor and admire, 

lago, but 'twas when he did desire 

To heal the aching pang which gave unrest, 

To black Othello's jealous swarthy breast. 

'Twas nonsense, and he thus did truth abuse, 

Just as good men will often fiction use 

To heal some racking pang, and give relief. 

Where passion's cur'd by things beyond belief. 

But when he spoke words wise and full of truth 

To Roderigo his friend, ardent youth, 

He said, young man, these words of wisdom nurse. 

Above all things, " put money in thy purse." 

Yes, lose all honor and all virtue, be 

Guilty of ev'ry crime and infamy. 

Do each base deed, from which the sicken'd soul 

Shrinks back appall'd ; admit not the control 



Il6 



THE GOLDEN CALF. 



Of e'en one decent feeling, if you've gold, 
Stand safe amid your treasures, and be bold. 
Your vice, a dazzling veil is hid behind, 
The world to all except your gold is blind. 
It is the magic that can all bewitch. 
You're sure to be respectable if rich. 




REPORT. 



TO THE PRESIDENT AND DIRECTORS 

OF THE 

VANDERBURG MINING COMPANY, 




HAVE, the last month, made a survey of the 

property belonging to the Vanderburg Min- 

Wcl. ing Company in North Carolina, and herewith 
send you a map I have prepared of the same, on which 
the principal veins and important features of the pro- 
perty will be found plotted. 

The main tract comprises several estates now consoli- 
dated into one. It has an extreme length, north and 
south, of about one mile and loo rods, and east and west 
is nowhere less than 200 rods. It bounds the property 
of the Phoenix Mining Company on the north and east. 



Ii8 REPORT. 

and must have upon it the extension of all the veins 
worked by this Company. 

It is about six miles from Concord, in Cubarrus coun- 
ty, to which place the North Carolina Railroad will be in 
operation next spring. 

The surface of the country is elevated ; it is moderately 
hilly, fertile and well watered. The principal tract is 
about equally divided between farming and timber land. 
The growth is mostly oak with groves of small pines. 
Many large yellow pines are intermixed with the hard- 
wood growth. 

The rock formation is greenstone— seldom seen out- 
cropping, but exposed in loose pieces over the surface, 
and reached below by mining operations. It passes into 
a highly ferruginous horn-blend rock, with which is 
associated a little serpentine and epidote. The slate belt 
of this region lies farther east ; the granite belt is on the 
west, extending beyond Concord. 

A great number of metaliferous veins traverse the 
greenstone, pursuing a general course N. 50° to N, 65° E. 
They consist of quartz, with which are associated sul- 
phate of barytes, spathic iron, and pyritiferous iron and 
copper. Gold has been found disseminated so abund- 
antly through the vein-stones, that explorations upon 
them have been extensively carried on at times when 
mining operations were little in favor, capital not abund- 
ant ; and when the ores were necessarily transported 
several miles to the nearest mill. 

The vein, which has been most worked, is traced 



REPORT. 119 

across a considerable portion of the Phoenix tract and the 
whole of the Vanderburg by a succession of pits sunk 
along its line of out-crop. On both tracts the mining 
upon it is now prosecuted to a depth requiring steam- 
power for the extraction of the water and ores. It has 
yielded rich bunches of gold ore near the surface ; and 
throughout the vein gold is diffused in such quantity, 
that the heaps of ore now lying upon the surface are 
valued at not less than $2,00 per bushel by the former 
proprietors of the Vanderburg mine. Many of the speci- 
mens extracted present a beautiful show of coarse gold, 
such as are not often found at the best mires in the 
State. As in depth the vein is more pyritiferous than 
near the surface, it is not unlikely the production may 
continue to greater depths than is usual at mines defi- 
cient in the yellow sulphurets of iron and copper. At 
Gold Hill, in the same vicinity, gold is abundant in the 
pyritiferous ores to the greatest depth yet reached, 
which is 340 feet. The deepest workings on the Vander- 
burg are only 100 feet. Pyritous copper ore is found in such 
quantity that the mine may fairly be regarded as a cop- 
per mine, and when further opened by lower levels than 
the present workings may reasonably be expected to 
produce largely of this ore. From my survey of the 
mine, sections of which accompany the map, it will be 
seen that the whole extent of the underground workings 
is only 176 feet, horizontally, and but a small portion ot 
this is at the depth of the bottom of the shafts. With so 
great a length of vein the workings can be regarded as 



120 REPORT. 

little more than superficial. The thickness of the vein 
varies from three and a half feet down to a few inches. It 
is more regular than the veins in Guilford County. It is 
remarkable for its smooth walls, and the '' coinF' like 
character of its vein-stones. This feature and the occur- 
rence of the materials making the vein in parallel layers, 
which is also noticed here, are regarded by miners as 
very favorable signs of a good vein. Of itself this vein 
is sufficient to justify the establishment of mining opera- 
tions on a liberal scale without reference to the other 
veins, some of which I now proceed to notice. 

The next vein towards the South-east is eighteen rods 
distant, and pursues a course nearly parallel with the first, 
so far as it is exposed by the pits opened upon it. The 
material thrown out appears well as gold ore, and is en- 
couraging for farther exploration. The ground is favor- 
ably situated for opening the mine to advantage. As it 
can be proved for this reason, with little expense, it will 
be advisable to do this as soon as a mill is in operation 
for grinding the ores. 

The third vein in this direction is called the " Orchard 
Vein:" having received this name on the Phoenix tract, 
from which it passes into the Vanderburg. It is on the 
latter about 83 rods South-east of the second vein just 
described. On the Phoenix its course is about N. 64° E. 
Approaching Plum Run it curves more to the Eastward, 
and its line of out-crop is very crooked. This is in part 
owing to the unevenness of the surface, which in con- 
nection with an underlay or dip to the N. W., somewhat 



REPORT. 121 

flat on the surface, would ^\WQ. greater irregularity (jf out- 
line to the out-crop of a v^cin than belongs to its true 
course. Man)' pits have been sunk along this vein 
on the Vanderburg; a shaft also, from which a large 
amount of material has been taken out, as is evident from 
the size of the waste heap remaining; and a short adit 
has been driven into the hill on the S. W. side of the 
tract. On the Phcienix two shafts have been sunk upon 
the same vein and a whim is now in operation working 
it. My only means of forming an opinion of this vein 
were— the general reputation it has; the extent of the 
former operations, which corroborate its favorable repu- 
tation ; and the appearance of the stuff remaining upon 
the surface. The rock forming the country is green- 
stone with serpentine intermixed. The production of 
gold, I learn from good authorit)', was considerable, 
though the ore was of variable character. P3'Tltous cop- 
per was met with in such quantity, both upon the Phoe- 
nix and Vanderburg, that one would be well warranted 
in sinking deep shafts in expectation of finding this ore 
in abundance. In very superficial pits, at the workings 
farther to the N. E., near the spring and large poplar, 
noted upon the map, the indications of good copper are 
very favorable, and here would be a convenient point for 
sinking upon the vein, and taking off the surface water 
by a short adit. Were a new Company to be organized 
for working a portion of the mines of this tract, Plum 
Run would make a convenient division and lea\'e suf- 
ficient territory to the South-east of it. 



122 REPORT. 

To the North-west of the first vein described, another 
vein of importance is found about fift)^-seven rods dis- 
tant. It has been worked on the lands of Julius Van- 
derburg, adjoining the Company's tract on the North- 
east, by surface diggings and by a shaft forty feet deep. 
It is said to have produced good gold ore. On the other 
side the property, bordering the Phoenix Company's 
tract, the same vein (probably) out-crops on a little 
brook called Monkey Branch. Both gold and copper 
ores are here found loose in the banks of the stream ; 
and, notwithstanding the prohibition of the former 
proprietor, the place has been with some a favorite re- 
sort after freshets for collecting little " nuggets " of gold. 
All applications for rights to wash the deposits have 
been steadily refused. From the information I gathered 
from one, who has been accustomed to the business of 
gold washing in this region, I am of opinion the vein 
along this part of Monkey Branch will be found a very 
valuable one ; and the copper ores met with in the 
stream, which I found myself, are strong evidence of a 
workable vein of this metal. 

" Branch mining," or working the deposits of the 
streams, has been prosecuted to a considerable extent in 
this region. A little run just over the boundary, in the 
farm of Julius Vanderburg, which crosses the continua- 
tion of the above-described vein, as also that of the vein 
now worked by the Company, has afforded a considerable 
amount of coarse gold. This fact, together with that of 
the veins, which must have furnished this deposit gold, 



REPORT. 123 

beiii^ actually opened and presenting highly cnc<^urag- 
ing features, ouglit to inspire strong confidence, and lead 
to the hiying out of mining operations on a scale com- 
mensurate with the extent and promise of the property. 
With a mill upon the spot f(^r grinding the gold ores, the 
expense ol transporting these, which is always a heavy 
item, is sav^ed ; and according to the extent of the mill, 
its capability of grinding up tlie poorer ores to profit in 
large quantities is increased, while the general expenses 
are reduced in proportion to the product. All mines 
furnish a much larger proportion of poor than rich ores. 
It is only those, which are extensively worked and pro- 
vided with abundant machinery, than can make the great 
bulk of their products profitable. The difference in the 
returns must be very considerable, when only the ores 
yielding a dollar or more per bushel can be made to pay 
the expenses of preparation, and when those yielding 
tweMt3'-five cents can be worked to profit, as is the case 
at some of the gold mines in Virginia. Few companies 
have so large a field for their operations, and one con- 
taining so man}' veins known to be productive as the 
Vanderburg Compan)^ 

Along the North-western boundary of the tract are 
pits sunk upon another vein. This may be a continua- 
tion of the " Faggot vein," which between these pits and 
the Hagler Lot (belonging to the Company) has been 
worked quite extensivel3^ Several shafts were sunk 
upon this vein, beside almost a continuous line of pits up 
to the boundary of the Hagler Lot, which the vein enters 



124 REPORT. 

upon its northern line. Running in a direction about S. 
34° W., its course is obliquely across the longest dimen- 
sions of this lot. Separated fronr the nearest point of 
the main tract by only fifteen rods, this Hagler Lot of 
about 80 acres may be worked either under the same or 
a distinct organization. 

The Qut-crop of still other veins is marked by loose 
pieces of quartz and other vein-stones near the eastern 
boundary of the main tract. These probably connect 
with the first and second veins described. Their posi- 
tion is noted upon the map, but no work having been 
done upon them, a particular description cannot be 
given. 

Besides the Hagler Lot is another tract of about fifty- 
six acres lying near the main body of the property of the 
Company on the northern side of the farms of Julius 
Vanderburg and Tice Reinhardt. The nearest point of 
approach is A5 rods N. 62° 30' East of the extreme north- 
ern corner. Stretching thence to the eastward the lot 
takes the continuation of the veins, which pass through 
the centre of the main tract, and through the farm of J. 
Vanderburg. Several have been opened, and the extent 
of the pits upon no less than three of these veins indi- 
cate that here too they must have been found productive 
in gold. Although this tract may not be at once requir- 
ed for the operations of the Company, it cannot but be 
regarded as an important accession to their resources. 

The " Plunketf tract is a fourth lot about two miles 
distant, to tbe South-east, on a stream called Rock River. 



REPOKT. 125 

This coiUains about ninety acres, and I am informed has 
ui)on it veins of similar character to the others in this 
region. My time was too limited to give this the same 
examination as the rest of the property, 

With such resources^abundant territory well located, 
and containing numerous rivers, all producing gold and 
some copper ore also — the gold in many of the veins 
having heretofore, under disadvantageous circumstances, 
been extracted to profit, and the copper ores having 
every appearance of increasing in quantity and value as 
the mines are worked deeper— the propert}^ of the Van- 
derburg Mining Company is likely to repay generously 
the capital and enterprise expended in its thorough 
development. 

Respectfully, I am yours, etc., 

JAMES T. HODGE. 



126 CHARTER. 



CHARTER. 



An Act to Incorporate the Excelsior Crold Mining 
Company in Cabarrus County 

Sec. ist. Be it enacted by the General Assembly of 
the State of North Carolina, and it is hereby enacted by 
the authority of the same: That William P. Furniss, 
William Furniss, and their associates, successors and 
assigns, are hereby created and constituted a body politic 
and corporate, by the name and style of the Excelsior 
Gold Mining Company, for the purpose of exploring and 
operating for gold and other metals, and minerals, and 
for mining, smelting and vending the same, and b}^ that 
name and style, shall have all the rights and privileges 
of mining corporations in this State, and may purchase, 
hold and convey real and personal estate, not exceeding 
the value of one million of dollars. 

Sec. 2d. Be it further enacted : That tne first meeting 
of said Corporation may be called by the persons herein 
named, at such times and place as may be agreed upon 



CHARTER. 127 

by tlicni, iiiul at such and all Dthcr nicclings legally 
notified ; said Corporation may make, alter or repeal 
such by-laws and regulations for the nKinagenient (A the 
business of said Corporation as a niajorit}'' of the Stock- 
holders may direct, not repugnant to the laws of this 
State and of the United States. 

Sec. 3d. Be it further enacted : That the Capital 
Stock of said Company shall be two hundred and fifty 
thousand dollars, which may be divided into shares and 
sold and transferred in such manner and form as said 
Corporation may deem expedient ; and said Company 
may levy and collect assessments, forfeit and sell delin- 
quent shares, declare and pay dividciids in such manner 
as their by-laws may direct. 

Sec. 4th. Be it further enacted : That one of the 
directors or officers of said Company shall always be a 
resident of Cabarrus County, and that service on him or 
any other director or officer of said Company shall be 
valued, and sufficient in law and equity for process or 
proceedings reasonable before any Judicial tribunal in 
this State, and it shall be the duty of the directors of said 
Comjiany to have regular books of record and transfer 
kept b}^ the Secretary or Treasurer thereof, at all times 
open to the inspection of the stockholders, or any ono 
thereof. 



128 



CHARTER. 



Sec. 5th. Be it further enacted : That this Act shall 
be in force from and after its passage, and continue in 
force for the space of fifty years. 



Read three limes and ratified in General "] 
Assembly, this i6th day of February, 1855. j 
Sam'l p. Hill, Speaker of the House of [- 
Commons*; Warren Winslow Speaker 
of the Senate. 



55- * * «■ * * 
* SEAL. * 

****** 



State of North Caroi 
Office Sec'y of State, Raleigh, March 



,INA, ) 

16, 1874. \ 



I hereby certify that the foregoing is a true copy of the original 
Act on file in this ofiice. 

Wm. H. Howeston, 

Secretary of State. 




A REFRAIN. 



I HOFE 
I have not lost thee, Mary, 

I'm only thrust one side, 
I had no prurient fanlasie, 

To see thee as my bride. 

*T\vas a spirit that misled me. 
As thou knelt in silent prayer, 

That an angel had descended. 
Through the dun, religious air, 

I was thinking of that Mary 
Whom Jesus loved as friend, 

When sister Martha was so gary. 
And wouldn't stay to mend. 



Thy dreamy gaze involved me, 
As I was passing down the aisle, 

And its magic so dissolved me, 
That it made St. Clement smile. 



130 A REFRAIN. 



On a raining Sunday morning, 
As I sauntered in to prayers, 

A messenger in sackcloth, mourning. 
Whispered slyly in my ears : 

*' Would you like to know Miss Teamy 
"Faith," says I, "I dinna care," 

It rather made me dreamy, 
With my usual debonnaire. 

Then reflecting on the matter — 
For she looked so very sweet ; 

How the deuce was I to get at her, 
And contrive how we might meet? 

Thus tempted with heard praises, 
Of her arts, and skill in look,— 

For you know I love the Graces, — 
I discharged at her a book ; 

That was penned by Mistress Adams, 
Not she for poor Adam's ail. 

The father of all those Lttle dames 
That have made our race so "pale,' 

Wliich, projected at my lassie. 
The subject of these vei^ses. 

Came back like coach, with glasses, 
Which follows solemn hearses. 

I'm right sorry for the authoress, 
I thought only for her good, — 

Case did not suit the doctoress ; 
She needed better food. 



A REFRAIN. 131 

But spring came with its verdure, 
With its shining coat of green, 

And Astarte sent some flowers, 
The rarest to be seen. 

And the patient had recovered 

From the offerings and the book, 

But relapses were discovered, 
And of a serious turn partook. 

'Twas an admiration offering only ; 

What's the harm in such a thing ?— 
When the subject is a lady, 

And cat may look at king. 

" Drink Avater out of your own cisterns, and running water out 
of your own wells." 

"Cast thy bread upon the waters, and it shall return to thee 
after many days." 



132 






Sweet floA-er.*! so like the smiles from lieavea, 
To brigliti!! ::L ''jlv hours of toil, 

'vVherefrom the- reapefs gather leaven, 
Resting whilom from mid-day broil. 

How well they ease the burthened heart, 

Too often wet with briny tears, 
Quite comforting: where all was smart, 

The pains which blight and sorrow rears. 

How joyfully ye kiss the dews 

That bathe your soft and lovely skin. 

While rainbow prisms vie in hues, 
To paint your glory, without stint. 

Ye blooming children from the skies, 
Earth-born, yet bursting out in praise ; 

Id grateful incense ye do rise, 

To honor love, and joy, and grace. 

How gladly, then, we view these flowers, 
So lisugly nestled in a vase of glass, 

The fairest iraag^j of the passing hours, 
Too soon to break and fade away, alas! 



COL. 0' BRIAN; 

OR, 

THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE 

BY ONE WHO KNEW HIM. 



^^r^^mAlTZ O'BRIAN, of Irish descent, was a soldier cf 



V 

rf^JL>^^ fortune, who, durinar the wars on the Spanish 
4\^ main, was engaged by the South Americans 
waging war against the rebels of that country. Noble, 
generous and brave, with a courage as indomitable as the 
lion, without fear and without reproach, he endeared him- 
self to our countrymen, because he was a patriot and a 
true friend of all inclined to universal liberty. 

He led the armies of the noble republics of that South- 
ern land or continent, overcame the enemies of the gov- 
ernment, and after a successful campaign, which ended 
in putting all the revolutionists to flight, laid down his 
arms to settle in glorious peace. 



134 COL. a BRIAN. 

The government would have covered him with all the 
honors due to such braves, and they did indeed invest 
him with those paltry trinkets of gilt medals and the 
flaming insignia of titles, covered him with an emblazon- 
ry of gold lace, but could not hide his merit- or virtues. 
He refused all compensation for his services, and spent 
all his patrimony of English gold freely as water or his 
own caprices suited. He was a gallant, bold, reckless 
and chivalrous man. Like Don Quixotte, he fought for 
the love of it. The gayest of soldiers, a true hearted, 
rollicking, rioting, frolicking Irishman, and as true to his 
honor as the dial to the sun, 

I knew him well, I loved his hearty, free, rough-and- 
ready manner. There was a sparkle in his eyes, and sun- 
shine in his laughter. He displayed his fun at all times, 
and was eccentric as he was bold and gifted, and he was 
gay. 

Among the prospects, for he was somewhat of a spec- 
ulative character, was his interests in a valuable silver 
mine, hid in the heart of the Andes, or it matters not 
where — say some part of Peru, This he offered to a 
friend for the privilege of working it, simply on the con- 
dition that he should pay all his debts, amounting to only 
about $15,000, a mere trifle and a cheap bargain for a 
mine which has yielded over $5,000,000 per annum. 

The only risk attending the purchase would be, per- 
haps, the loss of the man's head who attempted to de- 
velop its treasures, and the fact that there needed a great 
deal of pumping before the water could be drawn out 



COL. O'BRIAM. 135 

which had been overflowing the adits for a number of 
years back. 

The history of this mine was rather singular. One Zal- 
manezer, a clever old Indian, had once been the owner of 
the property. It had been a gift from the empire for the 
many valuable services he had performed, but it was 
taken from him by one of those peculiar coups d' etats 
so common to despots, and concealed under the name of 
diplomatic tact, which sometimes compensates their most 
faithful servants by cutting off their heads. The influ- 
ence of this aborignal was so great among his native sub- 
jects that government became jealous of him, and after 
having first baited him with the offer of a fee simple of 
this, his paramount estate of inheritance, accused him 
of tampering with the privities of royalty and the do- 
mains, and whilst he proffered a thousand dollars per day 
while he waited his answer to an appeal to the parent 
government in Spain, they refused his bail, against the 
action of the dishonorable and treacherous conduct on 
their part at home, and concluded that the best mode of 
getting rid of the popularitj'' of a subject was to cut oflf 
his head, and thus control the entire right of posses- 
sion. 

Thus ever republics show their ingratitude. This is a 
solemn proverb and a warning; and like the farmer and 
his goose, they killed the bird in order to get her eggs. 
To remedy the short-sightedness exhibited in this picture 
of ingratitude, t e companions of the Indian and his 
bosom friends, grateful and reminiscent of his many 



i-,6 COL. 0' BRIAN. 

friendly acts among the neighbors, very ingeniously con- 
trived to pull out the plugs that had stopped the little 
streams usually gushing out of the cavities in all mines 
through the crevices and obstructing the proper working 
of the laborers, and thus letting in a flood of water, burst 
the sources of the neighboring lake and thereby destroyed 
the schemes of the avaricious governor of Peru, and 
thus placed a barrier to all future attempts to get this 
silver. Thus providence interrupts the course of human 
monsters, and by a certain retribution puts a stop to the 
evil as the beginning of complot. Truly, " man proposes, 
but God disposes." " Vengeance is mine," saith the 
Lord. The poor Indian has become a constellation of 
silver— in Heaven— by way of compensation. 

But to return to our friend the Colonel. He had va- 
rious talents beside those of soldiering and gallant ofii- 
ces. Not unskillful was he in the magic art of legerde- 
main, and he often, among his circle of friends at the old 
" stone arm chair," where he had built an abode, showed 
them his tricks of slight of hand, which he had learned 
while a youth at " Donnybrook Fair." 

Here at this altar of festive repose he drank many a 
bumper, and amid the sparkle of the wine and the brighter 
flashes of his wit, our rollicking, frolicking and happy 
Hibernian became green as the lizards on the Old Erin 
Island whilst he rejoiced in his cups. This art was learned 
when he was poor, at home, and he went to the fair to 
sharpen his wits for something to spend, like Curran, his 
countryman, to whistle away the hunger. Thus he lived 



COL. O' BRIAN. 



137 



and after having frolicked and feasted, fought and played, 
he returned to the old countr)^ after having fought an 
arrant English officer who squinted too hard at one of 
his friend's sweethearts on board a man of war in the 
offing near Rio Janeiro. 

The last we hear of him was after his return to Ireland, 
where he had expected to end his days. And in a racy 
letter to one of his early friends on the main he writes— 
" We have been up to the Lakes of Killarney, and it was 
nothing but swimming and hunting, hock and cham- 
pagne." 







138 

RUMIMER DAYS AT STOWE. 
I. 

Come, comiMde?, JDi:i your voices 

In song before we go ; 
The forest aisles will (>clioes ring, 

And bear the stmins below. 
As over us the moments pass, 

The mom(^ts lightly flow. 
We'll sing, with praise of summer days, 

Of summer days in Stowe. 

II. 
'Neath the shadow; of the mountains, 

Where the red man drew his bow, 
We'll gather round the social board, 

And naught but pleasure know. 
And when with reminiscences 

Our hearts arc all aglow, 
We'll sing, with pra!s3 of summer days. 

Of summer days in Stowe. 

III. 
Had this been Adam's Paradise 

Six thousand years ago, 
No tempter e'er had entered in 

To fill the world with Avoe. 
Eve would have sung her vesper hymn 

In cadence sweet and low, 
As we sing now of summer days, 

Of summer days in Stowe. 

IV. 

Now, on the threshold of the night, 

Sol, lingering, bids us go. 
And leave the homer, of fairies bright 

Unvexed by foot of foe. 
"Jut let no chilling touch of time, 

While wandering to and fro. 
Banish the thought of summer days, 

Of summer days in Stowe. 



139 



THE TOMB OF THE MARTYRS. 



AT W A L L A B O U T . 



What hallowed associations are connected with the 
60und of martyrdom 1 The heart of the patriot, the h)ver 
of his country, the truo American, th;3 honest man, an(\ 
the sincere Christian, swells with emotions too deep for 
utterance. Great thoughts of heart arise in the bosom 
of all brave men, and noble women weep over the 
memories of the sacred dead : 

" Dulce ct dccore est pro pxtna mori." 

Adjoining the United States Navy Yard in Brooklyn 
city, in Jackson street, may be seen, in a dilapidate 1 
condition, the tomb of the martyrs who died in dungeons 
and pestilential prison-ships,- in and about the city of 
New York, during the sjven years of our Revolutionary 
War. 

What a disgrace to their living descendants, that the 
only monument that was ever erected to their memory 
s..iould be suffered to remain in the sad and sorry plight 
in which it appears to-:lay ! 

It is high time that Br )oklyn sh mid wake up to i 
proper sense of their neglect of these departed worthies, 
and take the matter in hand, and rear a monument i!i 
some conspicuous spot, worthy of themselves, and which 
the children of future generations might visit, in order to 
keep alive and fresh their pride and lunor for such 



140 



patriotic exf nplars. It would be a grand idea to mingle 
the bones of these heroes of the Revolution with those 
of.the illustrious dead who have lately fought, bled, and 
died in our recent conflict against this last dovilish 
Rebellion. Where rests your sense of shame, ye inc >r- 
porators of Kings ? Why have these ashes of your 
patriotic a?icestors to be sanctified only by the colonist.^ 
of New England ; and why should the sapient wisdom of 
New Connecticut be called upon alone to place a statue 
over the buried martyrs in their vault and mouldering 
coffins at the purlieus of Wallabout ? Why leave it to old 
Benjamin Romaine solely, as a monument to his undying 
love and patriotism, and utter detestation of English 
impudence, to devise his body to the lot, in which these 
patriots have to inherit only their own bones, or to 
crown his pure devotion in a coronet of glory, which 
only exhibits thereon dark shadows in a strong contrast 
to the grim indifference of these Moabites of Long 
Island ? Let the government lay hold of this matter, and 
sink their disgrace in a noble tribute to the memory of 
these glorious ancestors of our Independence I If they fail 
to do their duty, let us of Manhattan shame our neighbors 
on the other side of the East river into the doing of the 
correct thing in the present necessity. If these fail, let 
the spirit of the old Constitution itself, " that undying 
and perpetual charter of human rights, and of our duties 
to God and man,''' rise up like the bones of Elisha, which 
stood 7ip on their feet at the indignant outrage of thut 
band of wandering invaders, who, while casting only a 
very c.mmon man's corpse into the sepulchre of this 
venerable saint and prophet of old, plead that the dry 
^ones of these modern vandals might shake in frightful 



141 



apprehension of that irrepressible disgrace and con- 
tumely with which pusteiity will visit them lor their 
shameful neglect, and their remissful memories of the 
past heroes of the Revolution, when it comes tlieir turn 
to be buried in vaults, and their ashes to be blown to 
the winds in a tempest oi" tornadoo>s and tea-table talk 
and reproach. Verily, the ashes of those dead patriots 
are the embryo of the resurrection of our country ; and 
we cannot better consecrate the ground where these 
martyrs of the dust are buried so well as by raising 
altars in the present on which the living may offer such 
a savor of sweet incense as shall yield that consolation 
and comfort of holy sacrifice, of thanksgiving, glory, and 
praise, to heal the broken hearts of the widows and the 
orphans, whose sorrows and wounds would be only 
freshly opened, but for the recollection that the heroes 
of the Revolution, and the honorable dead, brought forth 
upon this continent a new nation, which was conceived 
for the enjoyment of a greater liberty for all mankind, 
which shall survive the wreck of empire and the fall ol 
kings, and shall endure only so long as we who are 
alive shall honor their memories within the land which 
the Lord our God has given us: It is but meet that we 
dedicate a portion of our soil as the final resting-place 
of those who gave their lives that this nation might live 
forever. '' Itequiescant in pace." Let us 0'^ ^p the 
measure of their devotion. Amen. 




142 



A lady and a lassie and a lad, 

On a smiling July day, 
Stepped out of the cars into Central Park, 

There happily to spend the day. 

It was the first time in his life 

That the lad had seen the Ramble, 
For he was led there like a little sheep, 

That had only just learned to gambol. 

And ever as from little things a lesson we may learn, 
And from a small spark a great big fire may rise. 

So it often seems that as troubled hefirt may burn, 

Should mortal from sepulchral earth be lifted to the skies. 

Now we will change the age of him we called the lad, 
For men are but children first, but babes in later days, 

And speaking boldly say 'twas a young man, be gad I 
Who was the first sad subject of these sorry lays. 

It matters not even if a Red Rose of Lancaster 

Went with our party, she of maturer age, 
As if one Pollox strayed away with Castor, 

'Twas all the worse for this little gentle page. 

Nor makes it better that a white Rose of York, 

So sweetly smiled upon this youth forlorn. 
For what's a smelling-bottle without its cork. 

Or what avails a valley without ripened corn'^ 

Secundo, we will change the nature of our metre — 
The day itself was changeable, as all fine weather is^ 

To ask the Muse to try a new gasometer. 
To let our gas oif with a double whiz. 



143 

Oil ft bright snmnuT morning in the niithllc of July, the (lay- 
As I was passing oVr the road, 'twas tiie 20th of.liily. 

The sun was liirting with tlie ok)'.i(ls like iiide-and-seek in i)lay, 
When whom did I chance to meet but the idol of my eye. 

'Twas very naughty of me, as you may well suppose, 

That such a man of business should be stopping bj the way, 

To cull a sweet white lily that was nestled "-^ar a Re n, 

Or to spend an hour by the fountain as u was dal'.ying ia its 
play. 

The little golden diamonds that it scattered in the ligl't 
fei)read in starry shadows as it sparkled to tlic sun, 

>!id my happy thoughts like violets bursting the night 
Of nursing mother earth, so inspired me I could not run. 

We know the golden hoars whiidi were running like a stream^ 
Though spent in sweet communion would ne'er return again 

But thv-^ountainand the flowers were weaving a sweet theme, 
Had been painted by the angels on Nature's wide domain. 

It was of a stolen flower, that was pitcher-like in form, 
As it floated from its pendant, very like an ear-ring, 

That uLc vould have hardly thought of any harm. 

Or that there was aught of wrong in such a little thing. 

But there ever was in stolen fruit a deal of mischief lurking. 
Even as where, in old Romaiiit, a maiden was stolen away 
From her ralher's castellated halls, when gallant knight went 
burking 
AndcastiniT but a cloak around her, in his bark sped through 
the spray. 

There never was since time of Eve, when Adam was away, 

But some de'il was there, to whisper slyl} in l.ho ?ar 
There's something good in stealing, not, but there's he i>vi' to 
pny, 
And no ha'-n that any ill will happen then to .Var. 
3 



144 

Now what sliallbesaiJ when inanothei- older saying 
You read that one cannot teacli an old dog new tricks, 

For even the elder lady pulled a sprig of jessamine, laying 
Not iiir from wherc^ a party sat on a bench of rustic sticks. 

'^Twas ever thus, from childhood's hour, 
I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; 

I never loved a tree or flower. 

But 'twas the first to fade away. 

" — Tom Mooi»b." 

Another poet, not so well read in verse. 

Doth now conclude this model prosaidy 
By, ne\ er do write from railroad car, nor disperse 

Your thoughts from oSce calls — even for a lady. 



MORAL. 

Old Benjamin Franklin, so wise in his days, 

"Was given to verses, but never to lays — 

'Twere a pity the moderns don't mind what he says, 

If they did, 'twould be surely more to their praise. 

Take care of the shop, and the shop will care for you ; 
Always button your coat, and fasten your shoes, 
And then some fair lady will seek for a friend 
Who'll be true with her lover to life's bitter end. 




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